


The Last Black

by Toboe1087



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Shinsou Hitoshi, Alternate Universe - Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Manga Spoilers, Brother Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, M/M, Panic Attacks, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Recovery, future fic with 1A as third years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2020-12-20 22:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 93,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toboe1087/pseuds/Toboe1087
Summary: Of course a goblin would be the one to tell Harry that he had a surviving family member. His life never made sense, so he really shouldn't have expected assuming the Lordship of the House of Black to be easy.And of course the last surviving Black wouldn't make Harry's life easy, either.





	1. Even in the Darkest of Places

**Author's Note:**

> Before you start reading this, know that I have no clue when I'll be updating this! I plan on playing with this fic occasionally, but posts will be rare, probably with months in between.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Harry stared at the goblin in front of him. He was almost certain he’d just heard him say—

“You have a surviving family member, Mr. Potter, so we cannot give you access to the Black vaults.”

Right. That’s what he thought he’d heard. “I have a surviving family member? The Dursleys?” He hadn’t seen them since he’d turned eleven and been whisked into the wizarding enclave! How could they be preventing his access?

Bloody hell, he just wanted to catalogue the artifacts and destroy anything that was too dark! He’d finished with Grimmauld Place, and _that_ had been a horrifying mess, and now he had decided to go through the vaults. But apparently he couldn’t. 

“No. There is a surviving member of the Black family. Since you are now the heir to the Black Family, that person is now your family member. However, you have yet to reach the age of twenty years, so you cannot assume that lordship. The only way you could assume the lordship before you reach the age of twenty would be if you are the eldest surviving member of the House of Black, which you are not.”

This didn’t make sense. He’d seen Bellatrix die. He’d seen Narcissus die. He’d seen Andromeda die and Tonks die and… and he’d seen Sirius die. 

“Are you talking about Draco Malfoy?” He honestly had no clue if Malfoy was older than him.

“Sirius Black removed the Malfoys from the Black family tree. He removed everyone with a Dark Mark, actually, while reinstating everyone without the mark. It was a very complicated piece of magic.”

“But the only other Black is Teddy, and he’s younger than me.”

“Incorrect.”

“Incorrect?” How was that incorrect?!

“That is what I said.”

Harry could never work with goblins. He wanted to scream right now. “Can you tell me who the surviving member is, then?”

“A man named Aizawa Shouta. His mother was the oldest sister of Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix Black, but she left the enclave.”

Harry blinked.

A Black had left the wizarding enclave? But they were pure blooded maniacs! A Black would never chose to leave the enclave. Never! Which meant… “She was a squib.”

“Correct.”

“Does this Aizawa guy even know about magic?”

“That is unknown.”

Harry resisted the urge to rub his temples as his head began to throb. “But either way, he is the only person who can access the Black vaults until I turn twenty.”

“Unless he cedes the authority to you, that is correct.”

Bloody hell. It’s not like this was time-sensitive, but Harry really didn’t like the idea of all those dark artifacts waiting around to be stolen. It’s not like the Black vaults were impenetrable, considering as Harry’d gotten into the Lestrange’s vault. It would be very, very difficult for someone to do it, but they could. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Alright. Can you tell me where I can find the guy?”

“Outside the enclave.”

Harry stared at the goblin. “I gathered as much, thanks.”

“Any other information is unknown.”

Harry groaned. Could he wait two years?

No. 

No, he couldn’t. 

He would never be able to live with himself if something in that vault got stolen and used to harm someone. “Fine. Can you give me the paperwork for him to cede authority or whatever?”

“Of course.” The goblin reached under the desk and slid a document across to Harry. “He will need to file it in person at a Gringotts location and seal the document with a drop of blood to verify that he is, indeed, the interim head of the House of Black.”

Harry’s jaw tightened. So he would have to bring a muggle here. Wonderful. “Fine. Can you transfer some of my funds into muggle cash?”

“We will provide you with a Gringotts credit card, Mr. Potter, for all your muggle needs.”

“Lovely.” The goblin rang a bell on the side of the desk, and seconds later a smaller goblin came racing in, holding out a plastic card. The older goblin pulled a piece of paper from the desk as the younger one left, filing out a few numbers and then sliding the card across the desk.

Harry picked it up and was surprised to see that it looked perfectly normal—no odd design or anything. “Thank you.” 

“Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“No, but I appreciate your help.” Harry sighed and stood up. “May your gold always flourish and your enemies suffer.” Goblin sayings were creepy, if you asked him, but the answering grin—which was also creepy—at least told him the goblin appreciated the effort. After stealing from Gringotts, Harry was already on thin ice with the Goblin Nation. He would do whatever was necessary to try to ease himself back onto their good side.

“The same to you, Mr. Potter. Good day.”

Harry nodded and made his way out of the side room and through the busy lobby. If he was going to leave the British enclave, he’d have to go to the ministry for an approved portkey first. Which meant he would have to see Hermione. 

Harry pulled down on his hat, thankful for its disillusionment charm that would at least let him navigate Diagon Alley without being observed.

Even though the war had ended half a year ago, now, Harry still got mobbed whenever he went out. Honestly, that was part of the reason he’d decided to hole himself up in Grimmauld Place and clean it out—the lack of contact with the outside world had been nice. 

Maybe leaving the enclave would be good, actually. 

Most of the people in their year had decided to go back to Hogwarts to finish their education, Ron was helping George with the shop, Hermione was Shacklebolt’s “temporary” assistant… it’s not like anyone would miss him. Not anyone that mattered, at least.

Harry entered the Ministry and kept his head down, trying to stay unobserved now that the disillusionment charm wouldn’t work with all the Ministry’s defensive measures. He sighed in relief when he made it to the lift. 

He just needed to get to Hermione’s office and get the paperwork to leave the enclave. In. Out. That was all.

Reaching the office was easy. Talking to her, on the other hand… Harry stared apprehensively at the line of people. Wonderful. He ducked his head down, but had barely made it a yard before—“You’re Harry Potter!”

Whispers immediately filled the hallway. Harry looked up, trying to smile at the man who was staring at him in awe. “Blimey, sir, please. You go in next. I’m sure whatever you need is far more important than my measly paperwork.”

“Ah…” Harry looked behind the man, only to see everyone else nodding and smiling along. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Not at all! I should be thanking you! After everything—”

The door opened and Hermione’s voice called out for the next person.

Harry frantically ran inside her office and shut the door behind him.

“Harry?” She dropped her quill onto the desk, staring at him in shock.

He sighed, easing himself down into a chair. “Hi, Hermione.” He smiled at her. She was in plain wizarding robes, her hair pulled back and stress lines furrowing her forehead. 

“You left Grimmauld.”

“Yeah…” Harry grinned sheepishly. “I went to Gringotts this morning, and…” He launched into the morning’s tale, her eyebrows slowly rising as he continued. 

“You need to what?!” Hermione was staring at him.

It was the you’re-an-idiot-and-why-do-I-have-to-clean-up-everything stare. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I need to leave the enclave?” Oops. He hadn’t meant that to sound like a question.

“Harry, the enclaves exist for a reason. Now that—”

“I know, Hermione, I know. Muggles have quirks now and are more of a threat than ever, plus the wizarding world has to remain isolated because the knowledge of magic would throw muggle society back into the dark ages just like the appearance of quirks did—I know. But if I’m going to destroy all of the dark artefacts that the Black’s have, I need to find this last Black descendent and get him to cede to me the lordship. And we’re not cutting paperwork corners anymore, right? No special favors for any wealthy families or famous wizards.”

Hermione stared at him. “You could wait.”

“I really can’t. Gringotts isn’t safe and you know that.”

“I highly doubt someone’s going to be that motivated to break into the Black vaults, Harry.”

He stared at her. Finally, she sighed. “Alright. I’ll give you a portkey. Do you know when you’ll return?”

“No clue. All I have is this guy’s name, nothing else.”

“Right. Well… at least the Blacks have always been the type to stand out.”

Harry snorted. “There is that.”

“And… well,” she paused, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she watched him carefully. “It’s exciting that you’ll be able to meet a relative.”

Harry frowned. “He’s Sirius relative and more closely related to Malfoy than me. Best not to get my hopes up on that front, Hermione.”

“Ah.” She bit her lip. “Well… you sure you want to go now? It’s almost winter and hardly good weather to travel and—”

“Hermione.” 

She stopped rambling, her eyes bright. “I don’t want you to go, Harry. This could take forever! What if you’re twenty before you even find him?”

“Muggles have computers and the internet, it shouldn’t be that hard. But if that happens, then I’ll come back when I’m twenty. And I promise to write to the ministry post box.”

“At least wait a few days and say goodbye to everyone.”

“Hermione, this will probably only take a week. For all they’ll know, I’m still holed up in Grimmauld. And… well, I don’t really want to see Ron right now.” Although he loved him like a brother, Ron was a bit too happy with all the post-war attention, and he struggled with Harry’s dislike of it all. Ron wouldn’t understand why Harry wanted to leave. Plus the last thing Harry wanted was a huge tearful send off with a large crowd and everyone hugging him… he shuddered. 

Human contact wasn’t the best right now, but, well… he was trying.

Who was he kidding, he’d just isolated himself from everyone for the past few months. He wasn’t trying at all. But time would probably help, right? And in the muggle world he wouldn’t have to be afraid of spells or anything, so…

“I need a vacation, Hermione. I need to get away from all of this. From people yelling my name everywhere I go, from living in fear that one of his followers will find me, or worse, find one of you… I can’t keep doing this.”

“Fine.” Hermione sighed. “I said I’d do it, alright?” She opened up her desk drawer, rummaged around, and brought out a small obsidian cat paperweight. “Use this. Don’t lose it. I’ll attach it to your magical signature so that you can come back at any time, and you’ll land in Grimmauld when you do. The keyword will be Crookshanks. When you first use it you will land outside London Station. It uses a brief disillusionment charm to make sure no one notices your random appearance, even if they are looking right at you when you land.” With that, she pulled out her wand, casting a slew complicated spells that Harry had difficulty following. Not that he’d ever been interested in learning about portkeys, since Voldemorte’s ministry had been monitoring them. 

Hermione finally set her wand aside and looked back up at him. “Come back soon, ok? Don’t disappear on us.” She bit her lip, then put the figurine in his hand, her fingers curling around his. “We won’t be able to handle that.”

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. “I won’t. I promise. And I’ll keep in touch.”

“You better.” She gave him a pinched smile. “The portkey is one use only, so if you need to make more than one trip, you’ll have to come see me again. That’s just policy.”

“Right.” Harry nodded. “I’ll um… I’ll try to make it quick, Hermione.”

“Of course.” She looked like she wanted to come around the desk and hug him, but Harry honestly couldn’t take that. Not even from her. 

He fled. 

There were a few shouts of his name as he weaved through the crowds, and multiple people shoving paper in his path to try to get his autograph, but he finally made it to the apparition point.

Barely a second later, and Harry was standing in the refurbished living room of Grimmauld Place. 

Harry’d been living with everything still packed up in his trunk this entire time, including his stash of muggle money from when he was on the run, so all he really needed to was put that money and the Gringotts card in his wallet and transfigure the suitcase and then… then he was ready to go.

Harry stood in front of the fireplace, rolling the cat figurine around in his palm. Kreacher would take care of things while he was gone. Harry had clothing and money… all he needed to do was find this muggle and convince him to come back with Harry.

Something told Harry that would be easier said than done. But it would be nice to walk around without everyone knowing his name. Harry’s hand tightened around the suitcase handle.

“Crookshanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed this! The plot was bugging me, so I decided to just plug out the first chapter. I'm not entirely where it'll go or how long it'll be, but I don't intend for it to be too long, honestly. Unless it just becomes episodic adventures in their lives or something like that, I guess. Anyway, I appreciate all comments and kudos! If you like this, I really would love to hear back from you! I've never really done the whole 'if no one's interested I may not continue' thing, but that really is the case here, since I have so many other projects going on and just wrote this as a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. I didn't even really edit it, which is rare for me.
> 
> Also, If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! You can be active as much or as little as you want. I post previews for things I'm working on, and would normally post an incomplete idea like this there, but I was curious to see if more people would be interested in it. https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	2. When in Doubt

Harry stared at the computer screen in front of him. Finding the nearest library had just taken a simple ‘point me’ spell, then hiding his wand up his sleeve and turning whenever it twitched like it wanted to go a new direction. Sure, he got a few strange looks from passerbys for holding his arm out stiffly and suddenly twisting to go a different way, but it got the job done.

Computers, though, magic couldn’t help him with. Before Harry had gone to Hogwarts, he’d only ever used the school computers, but this model wasn’t like that. He knew he needed the internet, but the button’s picture had changed and none of them were labelled…

“Can I help you?”

Harry jumped, abut to draw his wand before he noticed the girl next to him. with feathery hair. Right. Quirks. It was odd to see them again after being in the wizarding world for so long. “I, umm….” Harry glanced back at the computer screen. There was probably no way he could ask for help and not seem like a complete idiot. “Sorry. I haven’t used a computer in a while, but I’m trying to find an old relative. Uh…” He sighed. “I probably sound like an idiot, but I don’t know which one of those is the internet.”

The girl giggled. “It’s the blue clock.”

Why was the internet a blue clock? That made no sense. Maybe it was a company logo? Harry clicked on it, though, and was relieved when the page that came up was a website he recognized. Even better, a search engine. It hadn’t been the most popular when he was a kid, but apparently it was now. Harry typed in ‘Aizawa Shouta’, hoping that he would be able to find an easy lead.

After thirty minutes of looking at various web pages that had information on different Aizawa Shouta’s, Harry wanted to bang his head on the desk in frustration. The only way to find out if any of these people were the right person was to ask about their mother, but Harry hadn’t even thought to get the woman’s name. 

Bloody hell.

He supposed he could start with people the looked like a Black, at least. Black genetics seemed to run strong. But if the man had a quirk, it could make his skin blue or his head like an animal, for all Harry knew. He hadn’t seen an Aizawa Shouta like that, but… Harry sighed.

“No luck?” Harry’s hand twitched in surprise at the sudden interruption. “Ai-za-wa Sho-u-ta, huh? Sounds Japanese.”

Japanese? That was helpful. “Uh, yes. I’m related to him through his mother.”

“That’s cool.” The girl smiled. “You said he’s a relative, right? Is there someone you could ask for his phone number?”

“Not really…” Harry searched his brain, trying to come up with a good reason, “Family problems, you know? I was the only that really got along with him.”

She let out a low whistle. “That’s tough. If he cut off contact, though, maybe he moved away completely? Would he have gone back to his Dad’s family in Japan?”

Harry’s eyes widened. That was a really good question. What if the Black sister had left the country, and that’s why she’d married someone with a Japanese last name?

Harry typed ‘Aizawa Shouta Japan’ into the search bar. Most of the results were the same results as last time, but there were a few new ones. One was about a kid that had won a sports festival a little around two decades. Harry frowned. If this guy was older than Harry, it could be him? He clicked on the link. There. Pale skin and scraggly black hair flying everywhere. Not to mention the outline of his face looked like Sirius’ from pictures of him with Harry’s dad. 

“That him?”

“Yeah.” Harry stared at the photo. “He never told me he went to high school in Japan.”

“Maybe he really is over there, then. Seeing old friends and such. Hope you find him!” She bounced off. 

Well, this was his only lead, so it looked like Harry needed to go to Japan. He quickly grabbed a pencil and notecard off the desk, scribbling down the school’s full name—apparently it was a school for heroes? Which meant this guy was probably a hero, now. 

Harry frowned. That could make things difficult. Heroes were paranoid about their civilian identities, from what Harry vaguely remembered. Well, at least he had magic on his side. 

Harry tucked the note into his pocket and made sure that his trunk was still there, too, then turned off the internet and headed toward the doors. The girl from earlier waved at him as he left, so Harry awkwardly nodded his thanks. 

He grinned when he saw the line of taxis waiting outside. Harry walked toward the nearest one and slid into the backseat. He’d only ever been in a couple of these, so he hoped nothing had changed over the years. “The airport, please.”

“Which one, kid? There are six.”

Bloody hell. “Ah… I forget the name, but it’s whichever one’s closest that handles international flights.” 

“You betcha.” The car started up, and the man turned toward the road. “You going to be paying by cash or card?”

“Card, please.” Harry had some muggle cash, but he’d rather save that for when he’d have to use it.

As the car drove, Harry stared out the window. So little had changed in the years had gone. The wizarding world had gone through a war, but here was London, bustling just as it had been when Harry had left Surrey. 

He’d never actually been to an airport before, but when they arrived, the people there seemed the same as always—weird quirks and all. Harry quickly navigated his way through the crowd to what looked like an information booth, where the woman looked confused, but let him buy a ticket after he gave her his credit card and pulled out the notecard from the library that he’d transfigured into a passport in the taxi. Well, the notice-me-not he’d put on it probably helped a lot, too. 

The woman nodded at him and told him to enjoy his flight, which would be leaving that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry it's so short; I felt bad about letting this sit untouched for so long, so I just wanted to post this quick scene. Next chapter we'll be in Japan! 
> 
> Thank you for all your comments and kudos on the last chapter!! I really wasn't expecting that many people to be interested in this, so it made me excited :D
> 
> If you're curious about how the passport would work with an electronic scanner, basically I think that those would pick up on magic & magical signatures, and someone in Arthur's department is in charge of noting and verifying/approving when wizards try to use magic to get through a muggle scanner like that. 
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other and have started writing and art challenges, too :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I post previews of my work there and there’s also some fan art of my other works :) https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	3. What's Done

One hour at the airport was all it took to make Harry had regret this whole fiasco. There were so many people! He’d spent the last month alone and in silence, but for the past day he’d been running around and everywhere was so noisy! Children screaming, parents fussing at children, people arguing with clerks, and announcements coming on overhead and interrupting everything. 

It drove him insane. 

Harry didn’t dare take the sleeping draught in the airport, or else he might miss his flight, but he did slip into a bathroom stall to empty out a soda bottle put a draught from his trunk into that bottle before applying a strong notice me not charm so that no one would question it. Thankfully the flight itself would be long enough that a draught shouldn’t be a problem, so the second he’d boarded the plane and sat down in his seat, Harry downed the draught and passed out. 

“Excuse me? Sir! Sir!” 

Harry blinked, his wand automatically flying into his hand when someone touched his shoulder, but thankfully he kept that at his side, because a second later he realized it was a muggle woman with a horn in the middle of her forehead. She smiled at him. “The plane has arrived.”

Oh. “Thank you.” Harry looked over the seat in front of him and saw people a few rows up standing in the aisle and pulling down suitcases. 

Carefully, he tucked his wand back up his sleeve and into its holster, then waited a few minutes for his turn to leave the plane. As soon as he entered the airport, Harry looked around for a bathroom, then waited for a large stall to open up before ducking inside to pull out his invisibility cloak from his shrunken trunk.

As luck would have it, the restroom wasn’t too crowded besides a man with sharp teeth and all of his equally sharp-toothed children, and soon it sounded like no one was at the sinks. Cautiously, Harry pushed the door open, then crept out of the stall. The last thing he wanted to deal with was muggle customs. It was hard to navigate without bumping into anyone or going through any body scanners, but Harry managed. 

That task accomplished, he ducked back into another out of the way restroom to take off the cloak, and then made his way toward the information center that he’d seen near the exits. 

A large train map covered the wall, but Harry couldn’t make heads or tails out of it, so he quickly headed toward the green haired woman at the information desk. It was an airport, so they should speak English there, right?

Did she have scales on her hands? Harry decided not to ask. Quirks were odd. “Sorry, but how do I get to the UA High School? I’m visiting someone there.” 

“How exciting!” The woman smiled at him. “First, you will need to go to Tokyo Station.” She pulled out a pamphlet, then pointed at a large dot where several lines in different colors all converged. “From there you will take the hero line to the UA station stop.” 

That… didn’t sound too hard. “How do I get to Tokyo Station from here?”

“There are several options. The most direct is the All Might express, but it is the most expensive option and requires you to reserve your seat in advance.”

All Might…wasn’t he a hero? Harry vaguely remembered Dudley watching some cartoon like that. “Are there still seats open on the next available express?”

The woman turned toward her computer, typing in a few things before nodding. “Yes. The express leaves every half hour, so you have fifteen minutes to head to the platform for the 10:30 express. A ticket will be 3,250 yen. Is that acceptable?”

Harry had no clue if that was expensive or not, but he doubted it would dent his vault. He passed over the credit card Gringotts had given him, and thankfully the woman didn’t bat an eye, just took the card and slid it through her machine. “Very well.” A ticket printed out to the left of her computer, and she passed it to Harry. “Have a good trip! Follow the yellow signs on the left to reach the platform, then get on car number eight. You are in seat 7D.” She took his card out of the machine, then picked up two thick pamphlets and handed them to him. “Welcome to Japan! Here is information on our train network as well as a Japanese phrasebook for your convenience during your stay.”

Harry glanced down at his ticket, relieved to see the car and seat numbers labelled in English as well as Japanese. “Thank you very much!” He took he Gringotts card back, then headed away from the booth, following yellow sign after yellow sign until he finally reached a platform with yellow arrival times flashing overhead. There were car numbers painted onto the ground, so Harry quickly found the number eight, then stood in line, waiting for the express with a few others. 

The express itself arrived with a rush of wind, but once he boarded the train, Harry was surprised to find it completely silent. There were people in almost every seat, but everyone was quiet, engrossed with their phones or a book or food, but never even glancing once in Harry’s direction.

It was the most he’d felt at peace around people in a long time. 

Harry slowly allowed himself to relax in his chair, and to even glance around at the odd quirks—who wanted twigs for hair? Or four eyes? Or walrus tusks or a horse’s head?—before pulling out the phrasebook and flipping through it.

Heading to UA was a long shot, but Hogwarts always kept track of its students, so surely a hero school would do the same? They’d probably be paranoid, but Harry could work with that. If all else failed, he had his cloak and could just stay there until after everyone left and then look through the school’s files. He might have to spy on someone to get a password, but with the cloak and some notice-me-not spells, it should be manageable no matter how paranoid they were. 

In the mean time, Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the anonymity that being outside of the enclave and in a foreign country provided. 

When his stop came, Harry was almost reluctant to get off the train. Finding the ‘hero line’ in the madhouse of Tokyo Station was a trial in and of itself, but eventually Harry succeeded. The hero line was much, much more crowded than the express. Harry ended up standing, clinging to an overhead strap and hoping to Merlin that he didn’t topple over onto the poor woman next to him. 

Harry was very glad when the stop for UA came. According to a tourist map in English that he picked up at the station, the school wasn’t that far, but it was still a good five minute walk, and the bustling city atmosphere was making his skin crawl. Harry glanced around warily, narrowly avoiding running into a few people as he kept looking between the map and the buildings around him. 

And then he saw them. Huge walls reaching up toward the sky, well above Harry’s height. 

He blinked, then looked back at the map.

Huh. It was certainly an impressive barrier around the school, but that was where the map said UA was located, and all the other landmarks were correct, so this had to be it. 

Well, there had to be an entrance somewhere, right? Harry set off to find it, though of course he walked around the entire wall before he finally caught sight of the gate. 

Harry sighed in relief. He hadn’t eaten anything since he’d left England and his stomach was protesting, but Harry was determined to at least try to talk to someone at the school before he stopped to eat. At least he’d been able to sleep on the plane. 

He was half a yard away from the school’s entrance when a blaring alarm went off and a giant metal slab came up from the ground, completely sealing off the school before Harry even realized what was happening.

What the bloody hell was that?

Harry stared at the metal in disbelief. He didn’t remember schools doing this when he’d lived outside the enclave! Though he supposed he’d never been around a school for heroes. 

But now what? This was his only lead! If the school wasn’t an option, he had no clue how else to find this man. He could come back under his cloak and fly over the wall, but who knew what that would do. If they had motion sensors that would activate a giant steel wall, there were probably other security measures around the premises, as well. Harry couldn’t risk flying without knowing more. But maybe someone would come and check to see what had set off the alarm? With a sigh, Harry leaned against the wall. He’d come this far, he might as well hope someone would come out and talk to him. 

After a few minutes, a screen opened next to the metal slab and a… rodent? appeared and said something in Japanese. 

Harry wanted to groan at the language barrier, but at least someone had showed up! Albeit electronically. He approached the screen, and the figure said something else. Well, first things first. Harry spoke up, “English?” 

“I see! Yes, I can speak English.” It nodded, clasping its paws together as it stared back at Harry. “I asked if you would please explain why you tried to trespass on UA grounds?”

Trespass?! “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to trespass!” Hermione would kill Harry if he got in trouble with a foreign government! “I didn’t realize school grounds aren’t open to the public.”

“Hmm.” The rodent’s eyes stared at him, and Harry suppressed a shiver. It must have been satisfied with what it saw, though, because a second later it jumped out of its chair and disappeared from the screen. “I’ll be right there, Mr. Potter.”

Well, that was a good sign, Harry supposed.

Wait.

Mr. Potter?

How did… how did someone outside the enclave in muggle Japan know who he was? Harry looked back down the sidewalk. He could make a run for it, then come back and try to get access to the school’s records some other way. But if their security was this tight…. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair. Just because they knew his name didn’t mean they were bad, or that they would gawk at him. The rodent had said it in passing, like it was unimportant, but they both knew that wasn’t the case.

Harry flicked his wrist and his wand slid out of its holster. No one was in the area, but there were probably security cameras and such if they had this metal door thing, so getting the cloak out wasn’t an option. He discreetly cast a notice-me-not spell on himself, then went back across the street to stand next to the tree. If this guy was going to attack him, the last thing Harry wanted to do was keep standing next to that door.

After a few minutes, a three foot tall white rodent wearing a suit vest and slacks turned around the corner and walked toward the entryway. He paused, his nose and ears twitching as he looked at the empty area, and then he looked straight at Harry and smiled. “I don’t mean you any harm, Mr. Potter. You can reveal yourself.”

Harry stared at the rodent. He really didn’t like this. Harry didn’t know anything about this place, but apparently they knew about him. He knew he should go back, find a way to look up more information, and then try again, but… 

Harry stepped forward, cancelling the notice me not as he moved. 

The rodent’s smile widened. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Principal Nezu.”

The principal? “How does a principal know who I am?”

“Well UA is a very important school, you know. We produce the best heroes in Japan, and some of the best in the world, so we know quite a bit about world politics.”

Harry didn’t buy that for one second. Even if all of that was true, there was no way the enclaves would willingly tell any school principal about their existence. He debated calling him out on the lie, but if he did that the rodent (man?) might not help him.

Bloody hell, this was already a mess. He could practically hear Hermione shouting at him. 

Harry took a deep breath. He’d come this far. It was a school for heroes. Even if they knew who he was, they wouldn’t hurt him, Harry remembered that much from before the enclave.

He took a step forward and then slowly walked back across the street, watching for any sign that the principal would attack him. Finally he came to a stop across from him.

The rodent nodded. “Wonderful. Now, I was wondering—how does someone like yourself end up at the doorstep of UA?”

Harry wished Hermione was here, or even Ron. Both of them were better at strategizing than he was. “I’m looking for someone.”

“None of your kind attend my school.”

Harry frowned. “That’s true, but… well, someone left our… community. Their child attended your school, and I need something from them. I was hoping someone here would help me find them.”

“Blood.”

Harry winced. How much did this principal know?! And how?! Sure it was the most common reason someone might track down a squib’s relative,Harry supposed, and he did need the guy to seal the documents with a drop of blood, but the rodent made it sound like he was going to kill the guy. “Just a drop on some documents.” Harry would leave out the part about needing the guy to enter the enclave, he already didn’t like telling someone uninvolved this much information. 

“I see.” Beady eyes stared at him. “Which of my students are you looking for, then?”

“A man named Aizawa Shouta. He attended here almost twenty years ago.”

The rodent clasped his hands together, nodding. “And you came to UA because you thought we might have information since he used to be a student here? We are not in the habit of revealing information about our students’ personal lives, Mr. Potter.”

Bloody hell. “I understand that, but this is the first lead I found.” Best not mention that they were his _only_ lead. He’d learned that much from Ron. The rodent still looked unimpressed. Bother. Harry hated to do this, but… “Look, if you know who I am—”

“I do not, in fact, know who you are.” Harry stared at him. But… but he’d known his name! He’d known he was part of a separate community! The rodent smiled. “Facial recognition software told me your name was Harry Potter. I have seen that name in British records as a figure of importance among an isolated…enclave, they called it…of individuals marked for observation, but I know nothing about _why_ you are important, though your reactions since you have arrived suggest that you are a fighter.”

Harry frowned. He didn’t like the idea of his actions revealing that much, but it’s not like he could change any of that at this point. And if the rodent didn’t know about the war, that definitely wasn’t information Harry could tell him. “Thank you for your time, then. I’ll try to find him another way.” It’s not like he could persuade the guy to give confidential information on a hero to some random guy that just showed up. Harry turned on his heel, annoyed. He had to break into this school somehow, which meant he needed to know what he was up against… How would he even get on the internet in Japan? So far he’d been lucky to come across people that knew English.

“You won’t find him elsewhere.”

Harry froze, then slowly looked back at the principal. “What do you mean?”

“Aizawa Shouta is his civilian name. The only place he uses it is here. And since you didn’t think about facial recognition software, you don’t seem like the type that can hack into systems to find him.”

“I have my ways.” Harry glared at the rodent. He understood protecting his students, but why did he have to make this so difficult?

“I’m sure. I also don’t know anything about those ways, but I do have faith that my student could take you down with ease, despite your status in your community. Unless, of course, you take him by surprise, but now that I know you’re looking for him, that will be harder for you to do.”

Harry scowled. “What do you want?” That had to be it, right? The guy wanted something in exchange for information on his student?

“Information.” Harry raised one eyebrow, and the rodent continued. “I want information about your kind. The online government records are vague, and that intrigues me.”

“Not happening.” Harry turned to go, but the rodent spoke again.

“I don’t care about your population numbers or government or anything like that. You seem to have a different type of abilities. I want to know if those are a hybrid form of quirk—basically, if they operate the same as quirks on a genetic level.” The rodent shrugged. “And if you keep pursuing Aizawa-san, I’ll find that information out either way.”

Harry wasn’t an idiot! If magic operated on the same level as quirks, muggles might be able to develop weapons against magic. Hermione had thought about that a long time ago and been trying to figure out the answer herself, but they’d never been able to interact with muggles long enough to discover the answer. Harry took a deep breath. One thing at a time. “What do you mean you’d find out either way?”

“Aizawa-san has a unique quirk that would provide the answer, and he is a close friend of mine. After one encounter he’d determine the answer and inform me.”

Bloody Blacks. The principal could be bluffing, but… well, this _was_ a school for heroes. This Aizawa guy would have to have a strong quirk to have graduated from here. And if he came from magic… it wasn’t unreasonable that it might have given him an odd one. As long as the principal didn’t think all the magical enclaves were evil, he doubted the information would be too damning. Harry sighed. Hermione was going to kill him. “No blood or dna or any of that.”

“Of course!” the rodent nodded. “Aizawa’s quirk doesn’t require any of that.” 

“And no torture in the name of science or some greater good.” Harry had seen too many dark rituals, not to mention tv shows like that, and he wanted nothing to do with it. 

The rodent’s face darkened for a second, but then he was smiling again. “Never. You have my word.” 

“Fine, then.” Harry stuck out his hand. “You tell me where Aizawa is, and I’ll help you figure out if my abilities are a type of quirk.”

“Wonderful.” The rodent’s paw shook Harry’s hand, and Harry couldn’t help but feel like he’d made a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!! :D I feel like the transportation section goes way too easily for Harry, but in reality Japanese stations/airports really do have English signs everywhere, and the bigger the station the more likely there are people around who speak English. They also really do have English area maps at pretty much every station, so... it's realistically easy? lol And rip Harry, you'll never be able to out think Nezu. 
> 
> As always, all kudos and comments are much appreciated!! 
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	4. Can't Be Undone

The campus was huge. 

Harry followed closely behind the principal, not wanting to get lost. He’d known the are was large just from walking around the outside perimeter, but the main building itself was probably almost as tall as Hogwarts’ towers. 

Everything was all so different than Hogwarts, though. Harry felt completely out of place. If he had stayed outside the enclave, would he have gone to a school like this? Well, his wouldn’t have been for heroes, but still. Whatever high school he would have attended probably would have been modern like this and not an ancient castle.

Finally, Principal Nezu finally stopped in front of two mahogany doors and pushed them open. “Sit down on the couch for a moment, Mr. Potter, and feel free to help yourself to some tea. I’ll be right with you.” 

Harry slowly made his way over to the sitting area on the left where a tea set sat on top of a coffee table surrounded by a bunch of victorian couches and chairs. Harry sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, his back to the wall so that he could still see the doors as well as the principal, who was now talking with someone on the phone while looking up something on his computer. 

This tea set didn’t look anything like the electric kettle he’d used back at the Dursleys, so Harry wasn’t sure exactly how he was supposed to ‘help himself.’

Though that brought up another issue. He wasn’t sure if Principal Nezu knew of magic’s existence or not, since he kept phrasing everything so vaguely. Harry _could_ reveal the existence of magic to the rodent—he doubted they’d punish him too much… but he hated relying on his status. No, he needed to find some way to uphold this deal without revealing all of magic. Which meant if they asked him to use his abilities in order to see if his ‘kind’ all had the same multi-faceted quirk or something like that, then Harry needed to do something that could be passed off as a quirk. 

He sighed, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. That meant wandless magic. He might be able to manage a wandless wingardium, but he’d still have to say the incantation to try that… 

Wait.

Part of what he’d spend all that time in Grimmauld doing had been finally working on his animagus transformation. He’d have to notify Hermione and get her to register the form for him, but there were people with transformation quirks—

The doors opened.

Harry felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. 

The long dark hair, the lanky build, the unshaven beard, the pale skin, the outline of his face… “Sirius.” 

But no. No, it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. But bloody hell. The middle school picture had looked somewhat like Sirius, but this scruffy man… Harry swallowed as black eyes turned to study him. “Sorry. You, umm… Aizawa Shouta, right? You… well, you look a lot like my godfather.”

He hadn’t expected to see the man so soon! Did he work here?

Aizawa stared at him, his hand coming up to rest on the scarf around his neck. 

“You do recognize him, then!” The principal padded through the room and hopped up onto a tall chair. “That makes things simpler. It just so happens that Aizawa teaches here.” He picked up the kettle pouring himself a cup of tea without so much as glancing at either one of them. “And none of that, Aizawa. This is Harry Potter. He's come from England to talk to you, and is rather desperate to do so. I thought we could all sit down for some tea.” Aizawa’s eyes never left Harry.

“England.” The man’s stance was stiff and ready to attack, his hand resting on his scarf, which had to be a weapon of some kind, with the way he was standing and how Nezu had reacted, but Harry had never seen a weapon like it. 

“Yes. I… well, my godfather was related to your mother.”

The hand tightened. “She’s dead.”

Harry winced. “I assumed as much, actually…” Great. Wonderful start, Harry. “Sorry. It’s just, my contact told me to find you and not her, which suggests that she’s not alive, given the circumstances…” Great, now the hand was tightening even more around the scarf. “Look, can we skip the fighting and talk? I’ve never met a Black who didn’t almost kill me, and I’d really rather not have you complete that list.” Tonks’ may not have done anything on purpose, but her clumsiness was definitely lethal. 

The man’s hand still didn’t leave the scarf, if anything it tugged at it for a second when Harry said the name Black—bloody paranoid family. Thankfully, the scarf still stayed in place as the man continued to study Harry from across the room. “You said my mother was related to your godfather. Your godfather tried to kill you?”

“Ah…” Harry could see why that would be confusing. “He was somewhat insane at the time. He later recovered.” And died for him, so Harry really never held the shrieking shack incident against Sirius, and he’d really been after Peter, not Harry, even if Harry hadn’t know that at the time… Harry frowned. “It wasn’t his fault.” 

The man scoffed, but his stance relaxed slightly. “My mother hated her family. Nezu, why did you bring him here?”

“Because he can help me with something I’ve been curious about.” The rodent sipped a cup of tea. “And because I thought it might be fun. He’s an important figure in England, received a knighthood and everything, despite his age. If you attack him, Eraserhead, it would be an international incident. Let’s have tea instead.”

Eraserhead? Was that Aizawa’s hero name?

Aizawa frowned, but finally let his hand fall back down to his side. “Fine.” The hero trudged over toward his boss, then sat down on the couch across from Harry. The rodent hummed softly to himself, ignoring the tension as he poured them both cups of tea (apparently the kettle had already been full of hot water). Harry hesitated for a second before he took a cup, his instincts making him wonder if the tea was poisoned, but he ignored it. 

They were both heroes. This was a school for heroes. They weren’t going to poison him. 

Only after the principal had watched them both take reluctant sips did he speak again. “Now, Mr. Potter. You mentioned that you were looking for Aizawa because you needed him for some documents?”

Harry looked between the two of them. “I… well, yes. But I can only really talk about this with Aizawa-san. It’s a confidential issue.”

“I’m only sitting here because Nezu asked. If he goes, I’m going, too.”

Harry groaned. Bloody Blacks! “Things aren’t that simple!” He took a deep breath. “You are a blood relative, Aizawa-san, so I can talk to you about this. But Nezu-san is a complete outsider! He seems to already know some information without going through approved channels, but he does not have _all_ the information, so I cannot simply share with him—” 

“First, then, why don’t you see if Aizawa’s quirk works against your abilities?” The principal gestured toward the open space in the room. “I have already fulfilled my end of the bargain by introducing you to Aizawa. After you fulfill your end, I’ll tell you how much I know about your community and we can work from there.”

Harry frowned, looking between the two of them, then sighed and set down his cup. “Very well.” It wasn’t like he had a choice here. 

“Marvelous!” the principal clapped his paws together as Harry stood up and moved over to the open area. “Eraserhead, use your quirk on him. I want to see it will prevent him from using his abilities.”

The man snorted, one eyebrow raised as he glance over at his employer. “First you don’t want me to be hostile and now you want me to use my quirk?”

“It’s for an experiment!” 

The man sighed, turning toward Harry. “Who on earth would willingly help you experiment…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. “Never mind. Fine.”

Red eyes. 

Harry flinched, stumbling backward, almost pulling out his wand, but resisting only to fall back and land flat on his back. 

“Bloody hell.” Harry groaned. Not Voldemort. Not. Voldemort. Red eyes, but not Voldemort. Damn it, those eyes already haunted him every night, did the last Black have to have eyes that color, too? At least they only were red when he used his quirk. 

“Mr. Potter! Are you alright?”

Harry forced himself to sit up. “Yeah, fine. Sorry.” He looked over at the couches to see that the principal was now only a few feet away from Harry, and Aizawa was now standing, his eyes black once again, but his expression blank. 

“It’s not the first time someone’s fallen back in fear because of my quirk, but you seemed fine with what my quirk does.” 

Harry shrugged. “I have some bad memories associated with red eyes.”

Nezu’s head was tilted to the side as he studied him. “Those must be some rather powerful memories.”

“Yeah.” Harry stood up, not wanting to talk about this any further. “I don’t have to be looking at him while he uses his quirk, right? The important bit is that he’s looking at me while I try to use my abilities.”

“Correct.” The rodent nodded.

“You good to try again, then?” Harry didn’t dare look over at the man, not wanting to risk seeing those red eyes another time. There was a pause, then Aizawa spoke again. “Alright, go for it.”

Harry nodded, took a deep breath. Focus on the form. Don’t forget his clothes. He exhaled, his body shifting as the air left his lungs. 

When Harry opened his eyes again, thankfully he wasn’t underneath a pile of clothes. The world was much brighter, each image sharper, and his field of vision far wider than when he was human. 

The animagus transformation had definitely still worked. 

“A crow. Fascinating.” The principal’s face was suddenly inches away from him and Harry let out another caw, wings flapping as he scrambled backwards a few steps. 

“Nezu… I almost hesitate to ask, but…” Harry cocked his head, focusing where Aizawa was staring at him, his eyes once again black. “Why didn’t my quirk work?”

“I don’t know.” The rodent’s voice was gleeful. “I’d honestly expected it to work! Oh this is simply marvelous.” He rubbed his paws together. “Alright, well, a deal’s a deal. Come back and join us, Mr. Potter.”

Harry closed his eyes again, shifting back to his normal form. This time when he opened them, the world was back to its normal height, and all extra color had faded back to normal.

Aizawa was still staring at him, but the stare was less hostile and more like Harry was a puzzle that was giving the man a headache. “So you can become a crow, and somehow that ability is not connected to your quirk factor.”

Quirk factor? Harry vaguely remembered that term from grade school biology lessons.

“It is most intriguing.” The rodent grinned. “If you are able to transform while he uses his quirk on you, Mr. Potter, then your community’s abilities are indeed quite different than quirks! Though that doesn’t mean that you don’t have something else that specifically uses the quirk factor...” His voice trailed off as he rubbed at his chin, eyes lost in thought.

That was definitely interesting. Harry evaluated the man across from him, who was still staring at Harry. Harry sighed. Well, before he could explain anything to Aizawa he needed to determine if the rodent knew enough that Harry wouldn’t be breaking the statute. Harry cleared his throat. “Principal, you said you would tell me what you know?”

“Oh!” The rodent nodded, picking up his tea. “Yes. Well, you’re an isolated bunch that exist in small communities across the world. There was a lot of activity from the enclave in the United Kingdom over the past year, and your name was recorded as an important figure to watch at around that time. As I said earlier, you have the title of knight, which means someone in the government knows what happened in your community and appreciates your actions. You act like a fighter and your eyes speak of nightmares, both of which suggest that you have seen too much action for one your age.” Harry flinched. Of course his own actions had given away that much. 

Nezu took a sip of tea, then continued. “As for what abilities, exactly, those in your community possess: you seem to all have the same highly adaptable abilities that were assumed to belong to an inherited quirk that was kept powerful through your isolation and inbreeding.” Inbreeding? Well, it was true enough with the purebloods. “However, we have now discovered that this is not the case. The abilities may still be hereditary, but even this is not always the case, if what you say about Aizawa-san’s mother is true.”

Darn it. Harry had given away something else without realizing it. Something told him no small detail would escape this rodent’s attention. Nezu took another sip of coffee, and Harry had the distinct impression that the principal was barely restraining himself from cackling with joy. “Now your abilities are usually performed with a kind of stick, but your people have also been seen to consume unusual liquid substances. Your transformation today shows that these sticks are not always necessary for your feats.” Well, Harry was still pretty sure that it was the best move not to have used his wand, even if it had given Nezu more information. 

“How do you know all of this?” If this principal could put all of this information together, could anyone else? He’s practically explained that they were a community of witches and wizards, just without using those words!

“Well, most evidence of these actions comes from security footage around when quirks were first starting to appear, as you seem to have further isolated yourselves at that time. Because of the sticks and viscous liquid, many have speculated that your community aligns with fairy tales of witches and wizards, and that perhaps some those tales are founded upon actual encounters with your community.” 

Bloody hell. There it was. This guy had every piece of information he needed, he was just waiting for a confirmation of what he’d researched. “I can’t talk with you.”

The rodent’s grin widened, and Harry fought to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. “Not: none of that is true. No, simply: you can’t talk with me. That in itself is confirmation enough, don’t you think?”

Shit, Hermione was going to kill him. Harry glared at the rodent. “Read into it however you want. It doesn’t change the fact that I cannot share information with you. You have conjectures and theories, but that’s it. I can only talk with people with blood relations or who are above a certain clearance level. From what you said, it’s obvious you don’t have that clearance.” 

“So you can show me your abilities, but not tell me anything about them?”

“I showed you one thing that could also be described as my quirk.”

“Yet it wasn’t, because you were able to perform the act while Aizawa-san was stopping your quirk factor from functioning.”

Harry growled in frustration. “Look—” 

“You might as well tell him.” Black eyes stared at him, tired and bored. “I’ll just repeat to him whatever you tell me.”

Bloody Blacks! “My government would imprison you for that. The prison system has improved recently, but it’s definitely not a place you want to visit.”

“Then you’d be the one inciting an international event by imprisoning a Japanese pro hero.”

Bloody hell, the man had obviously inherited the Black political savviness, too. Harry was not good at this. “The U.K. wouldn’t even need to involve themselves, they’d just contact people here about the violation.”

The principal took a sip of tea. “So there is an enclave in Japan, then?”

Shit. Harry glared at the rodent. He didn’t actually know, so for all he knew that might be a bluff, but it _could_ be the truth. 

The principal was completely unfazed by Harry’s glare, merely taking another sip before setting his cup down on its saucer. “Whom would I need to contact in order to receive the proper clearance?”

Harry frowned. Hermione had said the head of every major nation knew… Harry wasn’t exactly sure what ‘major’ meant, but he was sure Japan qualified. “The head of your government.”

“So only the number one person in each country outside of your community knows?”

Harry glared at him again. “It varies, but that person is a constant.” 

The rodent hummed. “Very well. I will attain this clearance in the form of a written letter that gives you permission to reveal the enclave’s secrets. Until then, you may stay here on campus and attempt to convince Aizawa to listen to you, promise not to spill your secrets to me, and do whatever you need him to do.”

Aizawa was now glaring at the principal. “Don’t foist this on me.”

“But he’s interesting!” The rodent laughed, “And things have been far too dull around here recently.”

The man sighed, muttering something about dull being good while rubbing at his temples. “You want him to stay in the dorms, I suppose? Despite the fact that we built those dorms to keep suspicious individuals away from the students?”

“I was thinking with 3A, yes. And he’s a hero from a foreign community here to visit a family member. That hardly makes him suspicious.” 

“Forgive me for not agreeing. Besides, the boy’s dorms don’t have a spare room.” Harry was pretty sure the man wanted to strangle Nezu right now, but he was also pretty sure that the rodent’s schemes were currently helping him, since Aizawa seemed determined not to hear Harry out, but would if his employer forced him to do so in order to fulfill Nezu’s own curiosity. 

“Have him share with Shinsou-kun. That will give you more chances to observe him, anyway.”

Aizawa’s eyebrow twitched. “Fine. But if this explodes in your face, possibly literally considering the 3A dorms hold Bakugou, I am not going to take the blame.”

Bakugou?

“But he’s here to see you! Who am I to keep family from visiting each other.”

The man glared at his boss. “This boy is not my family.”

“Oh? Then what other reason are you going to give your students for his sudden long-term visit?”

There was a long silence, then a sigh. “Fine. Yes, I will acknowledge that it is likely that this isn’t some elaborate hoax and he is, probably, very distantly related to me through his godfather. Even with that, though, what story do you have planned for his presence?”

“The story’s not difficult to fabricate, if you have all the facts. Harry Potter is an orphan. In addition, he’s barely of age and looks young enough not to be, and his godfather Sirius Black is dead—we simply say that his guardianship has passed to his godfather’s closest kin: you, Aizawa-san.” The rodent peered at them over his tea. 

Bloody hell. 

Guardianship?

He was eighteen! 

Not to mention that Harry really didn’t like how this principal seemed to know everything. His status as an orphan was public record, sure, but everything else… Wait. Merlin, Harry’d practically handed him the information, hadn’t he? He’d said Sirius’ name when Aizawa had first walked in, then he’d mentioned the Black family… He really needed to watch what he said and did around this guy. 

Harry glanced over at Aizawa. Black eyes evaluated him, “I assume all of that is true?”

Harry nodded. The man leaned back in his seat with a sigh, and Harry couldn’t help but stare—the way he tilted his head back, the way his the upper arms were thrown thrown back, resting on the back of the couch, even the exasperated expression were all the same as when Dumbledore told Sirius to do something he didn’t like. “Fine. At least it lets me keep an eye on you.” He smirked, and Harry was suddenly reminded that the Black family wasn’t exactly known for being _sane_. “If I’m supposed to be your guardian, you’ll even have to obey me when we’re in public.” 

Oh, hell no! Harry was of age! He’d defeated Voldemort! But… Harry needed this man, or he wouldn’t be able to destroy any of the dark artifacts in the Black vaults. He wouldn’t be able to purge the stain from Sirius’ family name. 

He grit his teeth. “Don’t expect much.” Harry was used to fending for himself; the last thing he wanted was someone meddling in his business, but he’d do what he needed to gain the man’s trust, and that was it. 

“Lovely.” The rodent beamed at them. “I can already tell we’re all going to get along just marvelously.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! ;) lots has progressed in the plot, but unfortunately Harry's not that much closer to his goal. At least he's now met Aizawa, though! :D As always, thanks so much for all your comments and kudos! I really appreciate all of them. 
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	5. Numbing The Pain For A While

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there's a brief mention of some slight spoilers for season 4 of the anime. It's not a direct spoiler, and it's only there for a few sentences, but I wanted to give ppl a heads up, anyway. I added a tag for spoilers and I'll take that tag off once we reach that point in the anime, so if you don't want to have anything spoiled, just watch for that tag to be deleted and then you'll know it's safe to keep reading ;)

Aizawa had quickly left after that, muttering about having classes to teach, and Nezu apparently had work to do, so Harry somehow found himself sitting alone in some sort of teachers’ lounge until the school day ended. 

It was a fairly small room with a couple green couches, a coffee table, a phone anchored to the wall, and a small kitchenette. Before Nezu left, the principal had given Harry the number for his office extension in case he needed something, adding that someone else would bring him some food around lunch time and there were plenty of English books in the bookcases at the corner of the room if he wanted something to read.

With the time zone change, Harry hadn’t even realized it wasn’t lunch time, yet. As it was, it wasn’t like he could relax in this room. They had to be watching him somehow—cameras, bugs, or some kind of technology Harry didn’t even know about. 

He sighed. If he was going to be staying here, he needed to get to his trunk…but how? He didn’t want to use his wand where cameras might see him. The cloak was accessible in his pocket, but that was about it… and he didn’t really want to use the cloak, either. Who knows what they would think if he suddenly disappeared into thin air. 

Though… if any place didn’t have surveillance, it would be the loo. He’d still have a trunk randomly appearing from nowhere, but at least they wouldn’t know _how_ it had appeared.

He should have brought the trunk out before he’d met with Nezu, but how was he supposed to know that Aizawa was actually _here_? 

Whatever, the bathroom was better than any other plan he could think of. Harry _could_ call and ask Nezu where it was, but…. well… why not use this as a chance to explore a bit? 

Cautiously, Harry ventured out of the room. There could still be intruder alarms, but this deep into the building, the chances were probably slim. He shut the door behind him, grinning when nothing happened. And on top of that, no one was in the hallway. 

A quick glance around him, though, revealed that the door to the bathroom was clearly marked in English and just three doors down the hallway. Harry sighed. There went his excuse to explore.

He didn’t know what this school would do if someone thought he was actually an intruder, though, so wandering too far without an excuse might not be a good idea, as tempting as it was… and who knew when classes would change and a crowd of students would flood the hallways. He shuddered. On second thought, it was probably best to leave the exploring to another day and for the time being just focus on getting his trunk.

Nothing happened as he headed toward the restroom, and once he was safely hidden behind stall doors Harry took his trunk out of his pocket and set it on the floor, then awkwardly crouched on top of the toiled so that there would be room for the trunk when he enlarged it. Harry slipped his wand down into his palm, pointing it at the trunk as he whispered a finite. 

Immediately the trunk sprang up, its size and shape back to normal. Harry sighed and quickly transfigured the outside to look like a muggle suitcase once more, then sheathed his wand back in its holster. It took a bit of finagling to open the stall door again and push the suitcase outside, but he managed, and then he was heading back down the thankfully still empty hallway and slipping back into the room. 

The room that was not empty.

“HEY!” A tall man in a leather jacket and gravity defying blonde hair stood up and grinned at Harry. “There you are! And you got your stuff, that’s great!” 

Harry stared at him.

The door slammed shut behind him.

“I’m Hizashi Yamada, hero name Present Mic!” The man bounded toward him, holding out his hand. “I teach English here at UA!”

Harry cautiously took the man’s hand and shook it. “Harry Potter. Pleasure.” 

The grip tightened, and Harry froze as the guy peered over his glasses at him. “I’m also Shouta’s husband, so anything you do with him involves me, too, got it?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “I don’t intend him any harm. I need his help with something, that’s all.” He… he hadn’t even considered that Aizawa might have a family. That would most likely make getting him to come to the enclave much more difficult, even if it was just for a few days. The man would want to stay with them, or bring them with him. 

Aizawa’s husband released his hand, suddenly all smiles again as he ushered Harry back toward the green couches and the food that was now sitting on the coffee table. 

Harry sat, clenching his right hand and forcing himself to remain calm. This man wasn’t an enemy. Protective, but not an enemy. He was a hero. He wouldn’t poison him or attack him. The food was safe. Harry didn’t need his wand. “How much has um, Aizawa-san told you?”

“For starters,” Yamada leaned back in the chair, kicking his legs up onto the table as he sipped at a can of some sort of fruit drink, “drop the suffix and call him Aizawa. And you can call me Yamada. If Shouta’s supposed to be your guardian, you should be a bit more informal with that sort of thing—he’s not uptight about appearances.” 

Harry blinked. No, he supposed Aizawa was different from the Black family in that way. Or maybe it was a younger generation’s rebelling? Tonks had certainly hated the formal rules and rebelled against them, and Sirius had despised a lot of the rules, as well, even if he seemed to like nicer clothes when he had a chance to wear them.

Focus. Don’t think about Sirius. Pay attention to the man who was still talking to him. “—ly, mentioning his mom’s family is like, the fastest way to get my man to hate you. Bad move there, kid.”

Harry winced. “I hate most of his family, too… what they did…” He sighed. “I don’t know what you know, so I can’t say more, but I will say that I didn’t agree with it, nor did the few Black family members that I was on good terms with, like my godfather.” 

“Uh huh.” The guy took one last sip from his drink, then crushed the can in his hand and began fiddling with it absentmindedly. Harry stared. The man didn’t _look_ strong, and he knew crushing cans wasn’t too hard, but— “Shouta doesn’t trust easily, and you’ve got no proof of any of that.” The man shrugged, “I’m just saying bringing up his family like that is a sure way to make sure you get absolutely nothing from him.”

Harry frowned. “But I need something from him because of his family! If it wasn’t for that connection, I wouldn’t even be here! For legal reasons I need his permission to destroy what that family made. If he hates them so much, wouldn’t he want to destroy what they stood for?” Harry caught himself, stopping before he said anything else. Cameras. Microphones. Harry could talk to Yamada if he was really married to Aizawa, but he could _not_ let it be overheard. He couldn’t say anything else. 

Yamada let out a whistle. “Yeah, that will help your case. You really should have led with that, not the godfather connection.”

Harry groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I couldn’t help it! He looks so much like Sirius…” The image of Sirius falling through the veil flashed before Harry’s eyes, and he swallowed. Not right now. He couldn’t think about that right now. “How was I supposed to know if he hated the family or not? For all I knew, his mother hadn’t told him anything.”

There was a long pause, and Harry looked up to see green eyes staring at him. Finally, the man spoke. “What’s done is done, I suppose.” Yamada sighed, then nudged the food tray closer to Harry. “Now eat up. I didn’t know what you like, so I tried to grab a variety of things.” He winked. “Lunch Rush is the best at cooking, though, so it’s all delicious!” 

Lunch Rush? Whatever. Harry would figure that out later. For now… Harry stared at the tray. There was pork and rice and carrots and some other vegetables, and it all looked great, except… Harry looked over at the corner of the tray, unsure of his options. “Umm… I don’t know how to use chopsticks.”

Yamada groaned, his voice loud and his arms waving as he talked. “What the hell, kid! Did you make any plans?! You show up here, you don’t know Japanese, you don’t know anything about Japan, about UA, or about Aizawa, you have no luggage (though you’ve somehow solved that one), and now I find out you don’t even know how to use chopsticks?!” The man was let out a loud groan of defeat. “Ah, whatever.” He stood up, heading over to the kitchenette area. “I think there are some western utensils in here somewhere.” 

Harry scowled at the man’s back. He wasn’t that bad! “I’ve always been better at planning as I go.” 

“Sure.” The man didn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, instead focusing on the drawers he was digging through. “Still better if you research beforehand so that those decisions are better informed.” 

This guy sounded like Hermione. Harry hated it. “Sometimes that’s not always an option.” 

“But in this case it was, right?” The man spun around, waving a fork and spoon as he nudged a drawer shut with his hip. 

“It’s worked out fine, so far.” Harry accepted the utensils, muttering an annoyed thank you. How was this guy to know what Harry did or didn’t have the time to do?

“Yeah, it’s worked because we’re _heroes_.” The man plopped back down on the couch across from Harry. “We’re not going to let some kid wander around Japan with no clue what he’s doing.”

“I’m not a kid!” Bloody hell! He’d defeated Voldemort! He didn’t need them thinking he was some weakling! 

“Uh-huh. You’re eighteen, I get it—you never think you’re a kid when you’re eighteen; I certainly didn’t, but—” He sighed, adjusting his glasses and peering over them at Harry. “Do you even know how electricity works? Shouta’s told me about how secluded your little enclave is.” 

Harry glared at the man. “I know how electricity works! I grew up outside the enclave and didn’t move there until I was eleven.” 

“So you haven’t been around for seven years of technological changes, plus you’re in a country whose language and customs you don’t even know.” The hero sighed, his fingers drumming on his leg. “How is that not a recipe for disaster?”

“I’d be _fine._.” He would! But it’s not like Harry could explain how to this guy. “I have my ways.”

“You hadn’t even found a place to stay, had you? You haven’t mentioned needing to cancel reservations or anything to stay in the dorms, and I know you didn’t leave campus, despite the mysterious appearance of your suitcase.” Doubt still shone in the man’s eyes, and Harry hated it. 

Harry gave the man a sullen glare. As if he’d tell him about that. “It’s still the morning. There was plenty of time in the day to find an inn or something.” 

The man sighed. “Look, kid—”

“I’m _not_ a kid!” Harry felt wind ruffle in his hair and quickly reigned in his anger in. He couldn’t let it out. Not here. He couldn’t destroy things or cause a scene in a room with a muggle at a school with muggles, bloody hell he was surrounded by people he didn’t know and none of this was safe and he could hurt someone and they were probably watching him and he couldn’t show anything and—

“Woah! Breathe, alright?” Harry caught sight of a hand reaching toward him, and he flipped backwards over the couch, landing in a crouch, his right hand outstretched, and only barely managing not to pull his wand from its holster and shout bombarda. 

They stared at each other, two sets of green eyes both wide in surprise. Harry hadn’t meant to do that. To react that way. 

“I’m fine.” Harry’s voice was tight, but he forced down his emotions, walking stiffly back to the couch and eating a few more bites of the food. Food was easier to handle than the blonde hero across from him.

“It’s ok if you’re not fine, you know.” The hero’s voice was softer, now. Sympathetic. No. Empathetic? Harry didn’t care. 

Harry knew the hero was studying him, but the man let him eat the rest of the meal in silence, and for that Harry was grateful, at least. By the end, he could even feel his shoulders relaxing a bit. Harry looked over at the man who was still staring at him as he lounged in his chair across from Harry. “Why did you come talk to me?”

“Seemed like the good thing to do.” The hero shrugged, “Nezu asked for someone to bring you lunch, and the students you’re rooming with all figured out that Shouta’s my husband a while ago, so they would think it was odd if you didn’t know who I am.” 

Harry frowned. “In that case, you could have left after introducing yourself.”

That comment earned a long sigh. “I could have, sure. But unlike Shouta, I actually like to meet new people, and I thought you might appreciate meeting someone friendlier than those two schemers.” 

Harry stared at the man. He seemed like he was telling the truth. Yamada was definitely different than Nezu and Aizawa. Those two were Slytherins through and through, but this blonde hero… he seemed more like a Gryffindor, from what Harry had seen so far. Bold and loud, as well as direct and in your face about whatever he wanted to know.

“For that matter, there’s another thing the students will expect you to know—the boy you’re rooming with is our son. We adopted Hitoshi nine years ago.” 

Harry’s eyes widened, “So that’s what Principal Nezu meant when he said my rooming with Shinsou would allow Aizawa to keep track of me further.” 

“Pretty much.” Yamada shrugged. “I’m not going to lie to you, Hitoshi’s paranoid like Shouta and will probably tell him the second you do something he thinks is suspicious.”

Lovely. Rooming with a Slythrin, then. Not that Harry planned on doing anything bad, just… magic was hard to hide, and a vigilant roommate would make it harder. 

“We also adopted a little girl two years ago, but you probably won’t be seeing her for a while.” At Harry’s questioning look, the man elaborated, “She has red eyes. Shouta said you had some issues with that, and she’s been through a lot. She wouldn’t understand your reaction and would think that she’d done something wrong, and we don’t want to put her in that kind of situation. Plus she’s young, and we don’t trust you that much, yet.” The hero gave him a sharp grin. 

Harry frowned, but nodded. It was reasonable, but… “I think I would be ok with a little girl.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Everything was just so sudden earlier…” He stared at the table. He had to explain this somehow. He had to give them more information, but not too much. Nothing that revealed enclave secrets about magic, but something to explain why he kept flipping out. Bloody hell, why was it so difficult to get someone’s trust?! He wished he could just use veritaserum and leave it at that. Barring that, though, the truth had to help, even if it was just a partial one. “There was a man who tried to kill me repeatedly. He… well, he had red eyes. No one else in the enclave had eyes like that, and when I see them…” Harry shuddered. “Well, he… it wasn’t just me he was after. He killed a lot of people both in the enclave and outside of it, but he hated that I kept escaping, so I was his um, favorite target, I guess.” Harry swallowed, trying his best not to think about that day in the forest, not to think about all the bodies at Hogwarts. “I earned my knighthood by killing him.” 

“When?” Harry looked up to see green eyes regarding him, completely serious. “No offense, but you have some pretty intense reactions to things still. If you need to see a counsellor—”

“No!” Harry couldn’t! Whoever it would be would know nothing about the enclave and Harry wouldn’t be able to talk to them and—

“Alright, alright!” The guy held his hands up. “No counsellor. It was just a suggestion, ok? You seem like you could use some help working through things, is all.”

Harry frowned. He was doing _fine_. Sure he had some issues, but he’d work through them on his own. He didn’t need help. 

“There were some explosions from an unknown source back in the UK half a year ago, as well as a rise in murders. The British government requested international aid, and UA sent some of our alum. That what you’re talking about?”

Harry shrugged. He knew nothing about a request for aid, but the rest fit what had been happening. “Probably. This guy had a lot of people working under him. People like Aizawa’s family.”

The man sighed, fingers drumming restlessly against his leg. “And what have you been doing since then? How’d you go from that mess to showing up here?”

Ah. Harry supposed that was the natural follow up question, but now he had to figure out how to word this bit, too. “Because of my godfather, I’m now the heir to the House of Black, which means I have control over all of its properties.” Simple enough. That was a thing muggles did too, right? “I’ve been going through the main Black household looking for items that were used for that man’s ideals and destroying them.” His mouth twisted, remembering all the dark magic he’d found. “But I can’t legally search other properties until I have the approval of all the Blacks that are older than me, since I’m just the House’s heir and not the Lord of the House of Black. Since all of them that are older than me died during the war, that just leaves Aizawa.” 

“By ‘destroying items’ I assume you’re not talking about harmless trinkets?”

Harry snorted. “More like torture devices and murder weapons.” 

“Of course.” The hero sighed. “Why didn’t you say any of this in Nezu’s office?”

“I didn’t really get the chance…” Harry frowned. “It was hard to think through what to say when I knew they’d be analyzing every word for nuances and things, and it was clear Aizawa didn’t want anything to do with me. I know there is probably something monitoring this room and can hear me, or if not you’ll tell them, but it’s still easier to think through everything when they’re not staring right at me while I’m talking.” 

The hero laughed. “Yeah, that’s for sure. Shouta alone can be intimidating, but with Nezu as well…” the man shuddered. “Listen. I’ll talk to Shouta, ok? We can’t do anything until we have good reason to believe what you’re saying is actually true, but we also don’t want to leave dangerous weapons around.” He stood up, stretching. “My free period is almost over, though, so I need to head to the classroom.” 

“Thank you.” Harry did appreciate the man’s help, even if all he really wanted was to be left alone right now. He’d been interacting with way too many people, and he was exhausted and on edge.

“No problem!” Yamada walked a few steps toward the door, then paused. “Oh! Heads up! You should also probably know that there’s three kids in 3A that have red eyes.”

Three?? Harry knew odd coloring was more common with quirks, but that seemed ridiculous. He took a deep breath. These were just kids. They were his age and training to be heroes and had nothing to do with Voldemort. “Thanks for the warning.” 

The man grinned and gave Harry a solute, and then he was gone. 

Harry sprawled across the couch, exhausted. Three people with red eyes. He would just have to deal with it—it’s not like it was these kids’ fault for having red eyes. Harry shuddered. Hopefully none of them had serpentine features or anything like that… that would be even worse. 

He closed his eyes. 

Voldemort’s face immediately came to mind, and Harry quickly opened them again.

Bloody hell. 

Sleep definitely wasn’t an option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Poor Harry needed a more friendly person to deal with after having to face Aizawa and Nezu together. As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated! 
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	6. Will Make the Pain Worse

Harry felt ridiculous, pulling his ‘suitcase’ behind him as he trudged along beside Aizawa. The man had come into the teachers’ lounge, said he’d take Harry to the dorms, and then hadn’t said a single word more, even if Harry asked him a question.

It was six o’clock! Schools didn’t normally end that late, right? And the air was chilly at this time of night, too, and it was a long walk. 

Whatever the reason for the delay, the man was marginally less hostile than earlier. His hands were at least in his pockets and not tightened around his weapon.

Harry sighed, lifting up his suitcase as they finally arrived at some ridiculously fancy building and walked up the stairs. Thank Merlin this model of trunk already had spells in place to make it lighter.

He could hear loud laughter coming from inside as they approached the front doors, but the second Aizawa entered the dorm, all activity froze. Harry peeked out from behind the man and his eyes widened at the chaos.

A large punching bag was in the middle of the room with two boys in flower crowns in mid-punch right next to it. Someone was hanging from the ceiling, suspended by long strands of tape and wearing some sort of glittery disco outfit, while others seemed to have been dancing to the loud music that had been silenced. There was a large half-eaten cake in the middle of the table (was it someone’s birthday?) and twister on the floor next to it, with several teenagers in awkward positions, and one girl’s hand was huge as she stretched across the mat. And—was that an ice skating area in the far corner?

They’d somehow made a mini-ice rink. Inside. 

Coming from magic, Harry should be used to things like this, but not even the twins had made an indoor ice rink. Their style had been more into indoor swamps. 

Not to mention that all of them were so… athletic. Harry knew this was a hero training program, so it made sense, but still! Even the least muscled of the group could take on any beater from the enclave. And they likely all held very dangerous quirks, plus Harry couldn’t use magic in front of them… 

Bloody hell, why had he ever left Grimmauld. This was like a den of hippogriffs!

Aizawa muttered something like he should have expected this, and Harry glanced up to see the man rubbing at his temples. “3B, help clean this mess up and then head back to your dorms. All of you, if this room isn’t spotless when I return in a few hours, every single one of you has detention.”

“Yes sir!” Everyone in the room shouted over one another, and then there was a flurry of movement as they all rushed to clean up.

Their teacher frowned at them, but didn’t say anything else. His eyes surveyed the room for a second before he turned toward the speaker system. “Hitoshi, come outside with us for a second.” 

A boy with purple hair stood up and weaved through the chaos to reach them, his posture relaxed compared to the tense air in the room. Purple eyes scrutinized Harry as they walked outside, and the boy said something softly in Japanese that Aizawa responded to. 

Harry didn’t know what to do. This was so awkward. According to Yamada, this was the kid Aizawa had adopted. The one Harry would be rooming with. The Slytherin type. 

“Hitoshi, this is Harry Potter. Potter, This is my son, Hitoshi Shinsou.” 

Harry held out his hand, offering what he hoped was a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.” 

The boy’s grip was firm, his eyes still assessing. “You as well.”

“Hitoshi, Potter will be rooming with you for the foreseeable future.” Aizawa paused, running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated, but Potter’s godfather died, and apparently the man was my cousin, so Potter needs my help with something.”

“He needs your help so now I have a roommate?” One purple eyebrow was raised skeptically as Shinsou stared at his father.

“I don’t trust my mother’s family, so I want him where I can keep an eye on him. Nezu wants him close, too.”

Harry glared at the man. “I hate most of the Blacks, too, you know. So did Sirius. Please stop acting like we’re the same.”

“You’re still one of them, so I’ll believe that when I see it.” Harry grit his teeth in frustration. He may be a wizard, but he _wasn’t_ like those pureblood bastards. Black eyes narrowed, and Harry forced down any frustration before he let his anger get the best of him. 

The hero sighed. “I’ll at least admit that you being here likely means you’re different, but it could also mean you’re just that desperate.” 

“You don’t trust him, so you’re having your son room with him.” Shinsou cut into their conversation, one eyebrow raised skeptically. 

“You’re the one that keeps saying you can handle yourself, but no, it wasn’t my idea.” The man scowled. “Potter’s got information Nezu wants, and Mic likes him for some reason.” Harry blinked. Mic was Yamada, right? The man liked him? That had to help somehow!

“Pop likes everyone.” Hitoshi’s voice was deadpan and completely unimpressed. Harry resisted the urge to lash out in frustration. There went that hope. 

Aizawa shrugged. “While Nezu checks on some things and we see if we can get any confirmation for his story, he’s staying here where we can keep an eye on him. Since I’m technically Potter’s next of kin through his godfather, he’s saying he’s still 17 and not 18 and I’m his guardian, so rooming with you becomes the next logical step.”

Shinsou’s eyebrows rose. “You’re serious?” 

Aizawa sighed, frowning. “Unfortunately, yes. I doubt he’s too much of a threat—If he hurts anyone in any way—”

“I won’t!” The man’s constant distrust was ridiculous! 

“—I won’t help him, so if that part of his story is true I doubt you’ll have any problems on that front.” 

Harry glared at Aizawa. “I won’t hurt anyone. I swear. You don’t need to threaten me about it.” 

“We can take car of ourselves, Sensei.” The boy was smiling at Aizawa now, amused. “We’ll be careful, though.”

“That would be wise. Potter’s on record for killing a mass murderer, and the Queen of England honored him with knighthood. Plus my quirk doesn’t work on him.” 

“That was all self defense, I’m not dangerous!” Bloody hell! Harry felt the wind pick up around him, but he quickly forced his emotions back down. 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” Black eyes stared at him, “But that doesn’t make you any less dangerous.” 

The smile had left the Shinsou’s face, his eyes cautious as he looked back at Harry. “We’ll be careful.” 

Harry hated it.

“I said I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and I mean it.” Bloody hell, did they all have to be so paranoid? Harry wasn’t here to hurt anyone! He was here to _stop_ people from getting hurt!

Shinsou sighed, his expression twisting from wariness to exasperation. “I’ll take your word on that for now. And don’t worry too much; Dad at least believes you a little, or there’s no way he’d let you room with me, Potter.” Harry supposed that made sense, but would it kill the man to be a bit more obvious about that trust? 

The taller boy shrugged. “Or I guess I should say Harry?” What? Why would he—“With that cover story, you’re now my brother as far as anyone else knows, so you should call me Hitoshi.” 

Harry’s eyes widened, looking between the two of them. He hadn’t realized…. But Aizawa wasn’t reacting. It was as if this wasn’t a big deal. Like having to act like they were now siblings wouldn’t be a problem. Harry’d never had a sibling! The closest would be Dudley, but—“Consider each other whatever you want, but help him settle in and keep an eye on him.” The boy nodded. “Good. I’ll bring a spare futon for your room later tonight. Text me if you need anything else.” 

The man looked over Harry. “Don’t cause trouble.” With that, he turned around, heading back down the path the way they’d come.

Harry watched the man disappear down the path, wishing desperately that there was some other way out of this situation. A way that wouldn’t involve pretending to be close to someone and living in a building with a bunch of rowdy teenagers after he’d spent the last few months at Grimmauld without any company. But he had to gain this man’s trust if he was going to be able to search the Black vaults and properties for other dark artifacts. 

“I take it you don’t know Japanese?”

Startled, Harry looked over to see Shin--no, Hitoshi staring at him. “Yeah. You…um, you speak English well.”

Hitoshi shrugged. “Pop’s a good teacher, and he switches into English all the time at home. Not everyone here knows it well, though.” 

“Makes sense.” Everyone had their good and bad subjects, after all. 

“So…” The taller boy rubbed at the back of his head awkwardly, “you want to be introduced to everyone?”

Harry glanced back toward the door where loud thumps and occasional shouts rang out, along with a noise that suspiciously like explosions. “Honestly, no.”

The boy next to him laughed. “Yeah, they can be kind of overwhelming, but the more you wait the more curious they’ll get. And trust me, you don’t want to deal with them when they’re curious.” 

Harry sighed. Now _that_ sounded familiar. “Fine, then. Best get it over with.” 

“How much do you want to tell them?”

Harry shrugged. “Might as well tell them the full cover story. Stop them from being curious, right?” Well, as much as Hitoshi knew of it, at least. 

“Alright. I’ll just do a general introduction and then we can take your things up to my room. You can at least push off individual introductions until tomorrow.” He frowned, then added, “It would be easier to say all that in Japanese, unless you mind?”

Harry’ shoulders sagged in relief and he shook his head, thankful that the other boy was willing to take the lead. It could be worse. A general introduction sounded good—this way, Harry could make a quick escape.

Hitoshi pushed the doors open, but unlike last time the chaos didn’t stop. In fact, they didn’t even seem to have noticed that other people had entered the room. A tall boy with blue hair was standing in the middle of the room, chopping the air like some sort of robot as he shouted directions at people, and everyone else scampered around, some with trash bags and a few others shouting as they moved furniture around.

Most of the walls were glass, making it easy to see if someone was approaching, which was nice, but there were some defensible areas, like the kitchen, and the door at the back probably led to some escape stairs and—

Hitoshi reached out, grabbing someone’s arm as he ran past. “Oi, Bakugou.”

Harry flinched, almost stumbling backwards at the red eyes that turned to glare at them both, spitting out angry Japanese. Hitoshi said something else, his voice calm, and suddenly the boy’s face went blank, and he raised one hand in the air, an explosion ripping forth from his palm.

The entire room froze. 

Fire flashed before Harry’s eyes, explosions from the battle, all the smoke, the debris everywhere, the bodies, the flashes of light from spells, shields failing, blood, screams—

“Harry?”

He blinked. 

There was no smoke. No fire. No screams. 

The explosion boy was gone.

Hitoshi was looking at him. 

Everyone was staring at him. Whispering. Talking about him in a language Harry didn’t even understand.

He had to… He had to get out of here. 

He couldn’t do this. 

“Hey, dude, you ok?” 

Another boy was there. One with yellow eyes and hair, a lightning bolt running through it that reminded Harry of his own scar. Someone new. Deep breaths. Focus. Don’t come across as insane. 

The boy gave him a bright smile. “I totally get it if this is too much, man! My brain’s fried just thinking about it! A whole new country and everything!My lame ass has only left the country once, and that was for school” His gestures were wide and broad like Yamada’s, and his grin was bright and friendly as he wrapped his arm around Hitoshi and stretched up to press a quick kiss against his cheek before turning back to Harry. “I’m Denki Kaminari, Shin’s boyfriend.” 

They were… dating? Harry looked between them in surprise. Hitoshi didn’t contradict the blonde, though, just watched the other boy with an almost fond expression. 

“Pleasure. I’m Harry Potter. And yes, I’m a bit tired after everything that’s happened the past few days.”

The boy’s grin widened, “Dude, sick accent! It’s awesome! And that’s such a mood! Like this one time—”

“Ki, I should take him up to my room so he can sleep a bit.” Hitoshi’s hand rested on Kaminari’s shoulder for a second, and the bright grin turned toward him. 

“Right! Of course!” 

Harry’s stomach picked that moment to growl, making Harry blush. He opened his mouth to reassure them it was ok, that he had some food in his suitcase, but the blonde boy was already darting toward the table, waving a hand over his shoulder. “Bakugou’s cooking’s the best man! I’ll grab you some, you two go on up!” 

They’d barely made it a few steps, however, before the guy with the robot arms stepped between them and the lift. “Wait!” He held out his hand. “As class president, I should introduce myself. I am Tenya Iida. If you need anything, please ask!” Harry’s eyes widened as the boy bowed, but thankfully he didn’t stay in that position for long. 

Hesitantly, Harry shook Iida’s hand. Class president would be like a prefect, right? Or was it more like Head Boy? “Nice to meet you.”

The boy nodded. “If you cannot find myself or Shinsou-kun, the vice president is Yaoyorozu-san,” he paused, gesturing toward a girl with a long ponytail who waved at them, her other arm glowing as something—a dischcloth?—slowly emerged from it. “She also speaks English well. As do Izuku Midoriya,” a green-haired boy waved as he carried a table across the room with one hand, “Shouto Todoroki,” a blank look from a boy with red and white hair who was melting the ice, “Katsuki Bakugou,” the explosion boy looked up from the kitchen and raised his middle finger behind Iida’s back, “and Denki Kaminari, whom you just met.” 

That was… a lot of people. More than he’d expected when he’d first thought of the language barrier, honestly. Harry tried to summon the energy for a smile. “Thanks. I am pretty tired right now, though.” And he really didn’t want to deal with people. His skin was itching, and all he wanted to do was run away from every single one of them.

“Of course!” The boy nodded, gesturing toward the lifts. “We will exchange proper greetings after you have rested and we have finished cleaning the room.”

Something brushed Harry’s left arm.

Harry darted a few steps to the right, his breath quickening and right arm raising before his brain caught up to him and registered the wide purple eyes staring at him in surprise. 

The room was completely silent again.

Harry swallowed, lowering his arm. “Sorry. I’m tired and overreacted. Bed, please?” He tried to keep the strain out of his voice, but from the concerned expression on several people’s faces, Harry was worried that he hadn’t succeeded. He needed to get out of here. It felt like the walls were closing in and he couldn’t take it, couldn’t take being around so many people and he wanted to be alone and with no one else and where he knew where everything was and didn’t have to think about threats and—

“Yeah.” Harry’s eyes zeroed in on Hitoshi’s hand as it fell back down to his side. “Let’s go.” 

Harry kept his head down as he followed behind Hitoshi, ignoring everyone’s stares as he crossed through the room. When the doors closed he breathed a sigh of relief, barely resisting the urge to fold in on himself.

Hitoshi hit the number three button, then leaned back against the wall. “Sorry about that. I’ll try not to touch you in the future.”

Harry shrugged, looking away from the other boy. “Thanks.” Normally he could control his reaction better, but… well, it really had been a long day. And he hadn’t been around people in so long…

Harry rubbed at his arm. He needed peace and quiet, but he wasn’t going to get it. Not here. At least Hitoshi didn’t seem loud. It would be like the Gryffindor dorms, but quieter. That’s all. Harry could do that.

The lift doors opened and Shinsou walked down the hallway in silence. Harry followed behind him, studying the relaxed stance of the boy’s broad shoulders. How could the boy just accept that they were sharing rooms so easily? It didn’t make sense. 

“You, um… you’re taking all of this pretty well. I mean, having me dumped into your room and all.”

The boy shrugged. “Pop took me aside earlier today. I didn’t get all the details, but he said something big had happened with Dad and I’d probably have a new roommate.” 

Harry swallowed. He did feel a little bad for upending these people’s lives, but he had to do this. He’d found Aizawa. Now he just needed to convince him to help. And if the man would just _do as Harry asked_ this whole mess would take a day, tops, and then Harry would once again be out of their lives. 

“Besides, I’ve gotten used to abrupt family changes. Not that adjusting is easy, but they don’t really surprise me anymore. And it’s not like Aizawa’s actually your guardian, right?” 

Harry nodded absently, as the boy came to a stop in front of the door at the end of the hall. “Yeah.” Harry was of age and had won a war. He didn’t need a guardian. 

Hitoshi pushed the door open, gesturing for Harry to go in first. “You can eat at the desk when Ki brings up the food for you, but if Dad hasn’t brought the futon by the time you’re done, then you can take my bed for the night. I don’t sleep that much, anyway.” 

“You sure?” Harry looked around the room—the walls were some sort of light purple, but the furniture was all black. Propped up next to the door sat a purple bike that looked expensive from what Harry could tell, and there was a purple rug in the middle of the room and a purple lava lamp sitting beside the guy’s bed. There were a few posters on the walls of bands Harry didn’t recognize, as well as a bookshelf that looked like it couldn’t fit one more book unless magic became involved. At the back right was a door to a balcony of some sort—an escape route, if Harry ever needed one. 

Hesitantly, Harry moved across the room, crossing by a plant that was taller than him before sitting down at the immaculately tidy desk. 

Hitoshi cleared his throat awkwardly. “We’ll put your futon here, I guess.” He gestured in front of him, and Harry hoped there would be enough room in between the doorway and the desk. I was a big area, so surely it would fit, right? “And your suitcase…” Hitoshi frowned, his eyes traveling over the room. “On top of the dresser? Or at the foot of my bed in front of the dresser. I don’t use that bottom drawer too often, so you pick.” The boy rubbed at the back of his neck, “Sorry. It’ll be a tight fit since these rooms weren’t really built for two people, but we’ll make it work.” 

Harry stood up again, quickly moving to take the suitcase and move it to the foot of the bed before Hitoshi could reach for it. The last thing he needed was for the boy to realize how light the suitcase was. “I’ll move it whenever you need me to, it’s no problem.” 

“Awesome.”

The two of them stood there awkwardly. After a few seconds, Shinsou frowned, then went over and sat on his bed. “I don’t know what’s taking Ki so long. He should’ve been up right after us.” 

Harry took that as his cue to sit back at the desk, but he wasn’t sure what to do after that. “I don’t mind, really. I’m hungry, but waiting a bit longer isn’t a big deal.” 

Purple eyes narrowed a bit at that, but Hitoshi didn’t speak, just watched Harry for a few seconds, his eyes assessing. “You don’t like explosions or people touching you. Anything else I should know about?”

Harry shrugged. “Sorry about that, again.” He kept overreacting today. He hadn’t been nearly this jumpy while at Grimmauld… but he’d known where everything was, then. He’d known where the threats were, and there hadn’t been much there to startle him. He frowned in frustration. “Red eyes, I guess. The guy I killed had red eyes.” 

Hitoshi let out a low whistle. “So you _really_ need to avoid Bakugou. Sorry for pretty much thrusting him in your face first thing, then. I was just trying to get everyone’s attention, and he’s one of the fastest ways to do that.”

Harry shrugged again. “You didn’t know.” And that did make sense… the explosion certainly had been effective. 

“Anything else?” Harry frowned at the boy. He wasn’t about to pour out his life’s story. He’d practically already done that with Yamada, anyway. As much as he could, at least. Hitoshi sighed. “Look, I’m just trying to help make things easier for you.” 

Harry stared at the boy, debating. In the end, if he was asking these people to trust them, he wasn’t going to get anywhere without first giving them something to work with. It had helped with Yamada, so maybe being open here would help, too. And he’d already mentioned part of this to Yamada, anyway. “I’ve been alone the past few months. In a…. A safehouse of sorts, I guess, while I worked on my project. The last time I was around this many people…” Harry closed his eyes, forcing the images of corpses and funerals from his head. “It wasn’t pleasant. At the airport and with the trains I could focus on something but now I…” Harry’s voice trailed off and he clenched his fist in frustration. “I just can’t deal with a lot of people right now.” 

“You get overwhelmed easily.” Hitoshi’s voice was soft and calm, like he was stating a fact, but not judging Harry for it.

Harry shrugged, not bothering to look up from the desk to see the other boy’s expression. He hated being this open. He just wanted the food to get here so this boy would leave him alone. 

“I can respect that.” The boy’s voice was tired, “Though Dad’ll probably be mad if I leave you alone too much, since he doesn’t trust you and all.” There was a pause, then the boy continued. “I have insomnia and my quirk gives me frequent headaches, so I’ll retreat back here and just lay in the dark a lot.”

Harry blinked, looking back up at the boy. He’d heard of some quirks that had side-effects like that, but most people whose quirks hurt them would try not to use them. “Why use your quirk so much if it hurts you?” He had to be using it a lot in a hero program, after all.

“Because I can help people.” The boy shrugged. “Because I’m tired of people looking at quirks like mine and judging them, saying that the people who have them must be villains.” 

Harry blinked in surprise. “What’s your quirk?”

Before Hitoshi could answer, there was loud singing coming from the hallway, and Hitoshi sighed before his door banged open a second later, Kaminari walking inside with a plate of food. Harry blinked in surprise. Bangers and mash?

“Sorry I took so long! Bakugou said you wouldn’t appreciate Japanese food and you’d want trash food, as he called it, so he made me wait until he’d made a new dish.” Kaminari held out the plate, and Harry’s mouth watered at the delicious smell. He’d cooked all of his own meals for so long, and he was a pretty decent cook, but having something made by someone else would definitely be a nice change of pace. 

“Thanks.” Harry cautiously took it, as well as the utensils (not chopsticks, thank Merlin) and napkin. Kaminari had even brought up a bottle of water, as well. 

“No problem, man!” Kaminari gave him a thumbs up. “I’m pretty sure it’s Bakugou’s way of saying sorry for setting off an explosion so close to you.” 

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “That was my fault, not his. I knew what he’d do when I told him to get everyone’s attention.” 

Kaminari shrugged, “As if Bakugou would let someone else take the credit for something he’d done.” 

That earned a sigh from Hitoshi. “Right. Well, we’ll let you eat in peace.” The taller boy stood up and stretched. “I need to go double check that those idiots actually cleaned everything up before Dad comes back, anyway—they’ve gotten better over the years, but they still don’t think of everything Dad would check for.” Kaminari winced, making Hitoshi frown. “How bad is it?”

“Todoroki melted the ice and Aoyama’s down from the ceiling, but we may have knocked a hole in the wall when we were moving the punching bag back upstairs. Momo made a picture to hang over it, but—” 

“Like Dad wouldn’t notice a new picture showing up.” Hitoshi groaned, immediately heading toward the door. “I’m heading downstairs, Harry, but the restroom’s down the hall if you need it. Leave your dishes on the desk when you’re done and I’ll take care of them. If you need something else, you’ll find me on the first floor.” 

And just like that, both boys were gone, the door shutting behind them with a click. 

Harry blinked. They’d knocked a hole in the wall? And were trying to fix it in the hour or so they had before Aizawa came back? 

Whatever. It wasn’t his problem. 

He was just going to enjoy the silence while he ate, and then take a potion so he could get some much needed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always, I really appreciate all of your kudos, and thank you to everyone who left comments! <3
> 
> The hints were pretty vague, so in case you're wondering, 1A and 1B were in fact holding a bday party for Kiri and Tetsu (October 16th) so now y'all have an exact date for when all this is going down. ;)  
On KamiShin’s nicknames: The kanji for Shin in Shinsou means heart, and the kanji for ki in Denki can mean heart (though more loosely and metaphorically, from what I gather) so the two of them basically call each other ‘heart’ and it was totally Denki’s corny idea that Shinsou loves even though he won’t admit it.
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	7. The Marks Humans Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, so here's a recap: Harry is now staying in Shinsou's room at the UA dorms while he tried to get Aizawa to trust him enough to help him get access to the Black vaults. Class 3A thinks that Harry's seventeen and had his guardianship transferred to Aizawa after his godfather passed away. Everyone is aware that Harry is working through some trauma, though only Aizawa, Mic, and Shin know that it's due to a man with red eyes trying to kill him, and that Harry killed the man while defending himself. The only 3A kids Harry has had conversations with so far are Shinsou, Kaminari, and Iida.

Walls exploded all around him, each brick that flew toward Harry dissolving into blood that coated him, but it kept coming, more and more and more until he was drowning and he could hear Voldemort laughing in the background, hear him saying that if Harry would just give himself up, no one had to die, no blood had to be spilt, but then harry was sinking and sinking until he fell, fell into a dungeon where he could hear Hermione screaming, screaming and screaming and—

“Harry!” 

Harry jolted awake, scrambling backwards in the bed, trying to find his wand, where was his wand, it was always—

He froze. 

In the dark room, he could barely make out the figure that had woken him up.

Hitoshi.

A muggle.

It was all a dream.

Harry hadn’t been able to use silencing charms. He’d moved his wand so he wouldn’t curse Hitoshi on accident. It was safe, resting under his pants right at the foot of the bed. 

He forced himself to let out a shaky breath. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

Hitoshi stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed and sat down on the mattress. Harry blinked. That hadn’t been there when Harry’d gone to sleep. He’d slept through a mattress arriving? Well, at least the dreamless sleep had worked for a while. 

Harry could feel Hitoshi’s gaze on him, but the boy still seemed to be weighing his words. Finally, he spoke, “Don’t worry about me; you’re the one that had the nightmare. Are you doing ok?”

Hardly, but Harry was used to nightmares. “It was just some memories.” Nothing in Hitoshi’s expression changed. Did he want more details? ”It was about the man with red eyes. I figured I’d have nightmares so I took some medicine, but it must have worn off.” 

“Medicine for nightmares?” The boy’s expression finally shifted, his voice still skeptical, but after pausing for a few seconds Hitoshi shrugged. “Well at least it lasted you most of the night.” 

Did muggles not have medicine for nightmares? Harry’d assumed it was a thing. It’s not like the Dursleys would have given it to him if it existed, so he’d just thought… oh well. He couldn’t take it back, now. “It’s herbal.” That would make sense, right? Aunt Petunia has always talked about things like that being nonsense, but some of the women at her tea gatherings would disagree with her. 

“Ah.” Hitoshi stood up and stretched. “Well, we’d have to get up soon, anyways, and a shower would probably do you some good after a dream like that. Why don’t we go take ours before the others start waking up?” 

“That sounds brilliant, actually.” But… Harry looked over at his trunk. His soap and such were in the second compartment…. well, it was dark enough in the room that Harry could probably get away with accessing it. 

Harry went over to his trunk, carefully taking his wand out from under his pants and slipping it back into its holster, then grabbing the hand and turning it at the right angle to open up the second level. Thankfully Hitoshi was content to wait by the door and therefore couldn’t see the too-deep interior and potion bottles, but Harry still quickly grabbed what he needed along with some clothes for the day, barely refraining from sighing in relief once he’d closed the ‘suitcase’ and locked its lid back in place.

They were quiet as they walked down the hallway, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if he’d screamed. According to Ron, that happened a lot. But no one else was stirring, so maybe he hadn’t? 

The front room was clean, with a wall of sinks and mirrors opposite a wall of bins where they could put their things while they showered. 

Harry was reluctant to change with Hitoshi next to him, but he managed to slip off his holster and wand with his shirt, and Hitoshi didn’t comment on any of his scars. Surprisingly, he even had a few of his own. 

As well as a ridiculously toned chest and arms.

Harry swallowed. 

He’d never felt physically weak before coming here, but now it was practically slamming him in the face every time he interacted with someone. 

Harry turned away, focusing on making sure his wand was hidden.

“You have everything? You can leave your clothes out here so they don’t get wet.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Harry gave the other boy a distracted smile, and Hitoshi shrugged and led the way through the open doorway.

Most of the next room was a large empty basin, with stations on the nearby wall where people could sit and rinse off, but Hitoshi walked toward the far wall that had three stalls.

“We usually only draw the large bath if all of us on the floor want to relax, but it takes a while to fill up. For today, just take a stall. We can wait for each other in the front area.” 

Harry nodded, taking the first stall to the right. The tub was… odd. It was deeper than most tubs in Britain, to be sure, and much more narrow and compact. The shower head had a lot more knobs than he was used to, as well. 

It took him a couple tries to figure everything out, but eventually he got it going, and was relieved to let the water cascade over him. 

He was alone.

The warm water felt so nice after the clammy sweat, like he was washing away all those horrible memories. 

Voldemort was dead. 

No death eater would come here.

He was safe. 

Harry never wanted to leave the stall. If he could just stay here, just avoid people, never deal with anyone again…

But that wasn’t an option. 

He was here for a reason. 

Harry sighed, staying in the shower for a few minutes longer, then turning his water off. Was Hitoshi not finished? There was still water running in one of the stalls.

No matter. That would let Harry put his wand and sheath back on. 

Harry shook his wet hair from his eyes as he grabbed his towel from the stall door and dried off. Harry paused—he wouldn’t be able to use a spell to dry his hair here, and he didn’t have a hair dryer. Bloody hell. Maybe he could borrow Hitoshi’s? 

When he reached the front room, though, Hitoshi was already there, and the other boy’s hair was still wet, clinging to his neck and shoulders, a much darker purple than the usual violet. 

Harry walked over to the bins, frowning when he noticed that the one next to his now had clothes in it, as well. So that was why there had still been water running. Well, maybe they’d be dressed before the other boy finished showering. “You don’t happen to have a hair dryer?”

Hitoshi shrugged as he toweled off his hair. “I’ve got one back in the room, actually. I usually don’t bother bringing it here because Ki likes to dry it.”

“Oh.” Harry didn’t know what to say to that… was that a normal boyfriend thing? He supposed he’d seen couples playing with each other’s hair… was it like that? Though if the action was a daily routine, then… “How long have you two been dating?”

“Since spring of our first year. Dad says he knew it was inevitable from the first day of class and blames himself for setting a bad example by marrying Pop.” 

Harry snorted. “They’re both, umm… rather energetic.” 

“Yeah.” Hitoshi’s smile was fond as he pulled on a white button-up shirt. “I texted Ki that we showered, so he’ll probably stop by the room in a bit. He’d be happy to dry yours, too, if you want.”

…. What? But wasn’t this a boyfriend thing? Had he misread that? Harry pulled his sweater over his head, trying to figure out how to respond. 

Apparently guessing his thoughts, Hitoshi elaborated. “It’s good quirk training for him. Ki has to keep the electricity stable while he works, and my hair in particular is thick, so it takes him a long time. He does it sometimes for the girls, too. Especially Tsu-chan when she’s tired since she has such long hair and it’s always getting wet.” 

Oh.

That made sense. 

Still, though… “I’ll just borrow yours when we get back to the room.” It would feel awkward, having someone else dry his hair.

“Suit yourself.” 

Done changing, Harry grabbed his bundle of things, careful to make sure his wand and holster were covered by his old clothes, and they both headed back down the hallway to Hitoshi’s room. 

Hitoshi’s hair dryer was sitting out on his dresser, but Harry didn’t bother drying his hair all the way, just getting it halfway there so that it wouldn’t be as crazy as it otherwise would have been. Hitoshi’d needed to pack his books into his schoolbag, too, which let Harry slip on his wrist holster and wand while the other’s back was turned.

Keeping those a secret was definitely going to be one of his biggest challenges while here. 

“SHIN!” 

Harry jumped to the side as Kaminari came barreling into the room, wrapping his arms around Hitoshi. “Protect me!” 

“What did you—” 

An explosion rang out from further down the hallway. 

“On second thought…” Harry barely had time to react before Kaminari was hiding behind him, and the door burst open again, the angry blonde (Baku something?) glaring at them. 

Red eyes.

Harry took a deep breath. 

It wasn’t Voldemort.

Voldemort was different, entirely different. This boy wasn’t snakelike at all. He was shorter, had spikey blonde hair with an undercut, and his voice was much rougher. 

Not Voldemort.

Voldemort wouldn’t avert his gaze from Harry, wouldn’t have to clench his hands to stop explosions from emerging.

“What the hell, Pikachu?! Stop hiding behind him!”

Pikachu?

Hitoshi scowled, stepping between Harry and the other boy. “I thought I asked you to stay away while Harry was here.”

“I fucking was! But Pikachu—”

The boy’s voice cut off, his face blank. Harry shuddered. It reminded him of—

“Go make us some scrambled eggs. Don’t make them burnt or too raw and set them out for us on plates on the counter. After that, don’t touch them or let anyone else touch them.” 

Without a word, the boy turned around and left.

Harry felt the blood rush from his face.

It…

No. 

No, quirks didn’t work like that, right? There were a lot of different ones, sure, but it was usually something physical, never something purely mental like… like the Imperius. 

Right?

“Harry?” Kaminari was looking at him, worry etched into his forehead. 

Hitoshi turned around, his expression becoming guarded. “I never got around to telling you my quirk last night, did I?”

“No.” Harry swallowed, his voice quiet. “No you didn’t.” 

Hitoshi sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking away from Harry. “First off, just so there’s no misunderstanding, I won’t ever use it on you. I have my classmates permission to use it on them, as long as I don’t do anything outlandish. They trust me and know I need to practice, just like they do.”

Harry swallowed, trying to stay calm. This was sounding more and more like—

“My quirk’s called Brainwash.” 

Bloody hell. 

Harry sat down on the bed with a thump, burying his head in his hands. 

Imperius. 

Brainwash sounded like exactly that. Like Hitoshi commanded you to do something, and you did it. No questions asked. 

“There are limitations to what I can do, though. There’s a condition that has to be met before I can use it. Plus people can break free from me, and if I do too much I’ll have a recoil of some sort—anything from a headache to knocking myself unconscious. It depends on how far I go.” 

“People can break free?” Like the Imperius or—

“If they’re met with a strong enough external force, yeah.”

So not like the Imperius. 

The Imperius was worse. 

But that also meant you couldn’t break free on your own… you had to have help. But an outside force wasn’t hard to encounter…

He really didn’t like this quirk. That quirks could even perform something similar to one of the unforgivable… But Harry had cast imperio during the war, so could he really be one to judge here? Hitoshi even had his classmates’ permission. Harry hadn’t. 

And if a strong physical force would break someone free, it would be difficult to maintain control of people for a long time, or to have them kill themselves. It was a lot more limited than the Imperius because of that. It didn’t sound like Hitoshi could keep someone under control for months like the Imperius. Plus… “What’s the condition?”

“They have to give me a verbal response.”

Merlin.

Something Harry had done plenty of times already. Something he would have to continue to do. 

Harry took a deep breath. It was a tool. A tool Hitoshi was trying to use to help people.

He looked up, meeting Hitoshi’s eyes. 

The boy’s face was still guarded, his eyes wary as he watched Harry. 

It was the exact expression Remus had worn, when Harry had first talked with the man about his status as a werewolf.

Bloody hell.

Hitoshi hadn’t given him any reason not to trust him. He wanted to be a hero, to help people. And if Harry was going to get Aizawa’s trust, he’d have to trust these people first. 

He took a deep breath. “Ok.” Harry’s voice was shaky, but the relief was clear in Hitoshi’s eyes, and Kaminari heaved a loud sigh next to him. 

“Man, dude. Don’t keep us hanging like that.” 

“Sorry. I’ve um… known someone with a similar ability. We didn’t get along well.” Understatement of the century, but Harry’d use what he could. 

“Ah.” Hitoshi winced, rubbing at his head. “Someone helped Bakugou break free, so looks like we won’t be getting those eggs for breakfast.”

“Awwww, man!” Kaminari whined. “They probably waited until he finished and then knocked him out of it so they could eat the eggs and not us.” 

Hitoshi snorted. “Probably.” 

“Losers,” Kaminari huffed and walked over to the dresser, grabbing the hair dryer. “Whatever. Come on, let me dry your mane.” 

Hitoshi rolled his eyes, but came over to sit on the corner of the bed. 

And Kaminari stuck the plug in his mouth. 

The hair dryer turned on.

Harry stared. 

Quirks were so odd. 

Hitoshi’s eyes were closed, his expression as peaceful as Harry had seen him so far, while Kaminari was focused on running his fingers through the purple hair and lifting it up so the hair dryer could access the roots. 

All the while, the electrical cord hung from his mouth.

“What did you do to set Bakugou off this morning anyway, Ki?”

The boy took the cord out of his mouth, the plug resting between two sparking fingers as he juggled the dryer along with a comb. “It’s not my fault, alright! I know that tone, so stop thinking that! Sero just suggested I get his All Might boxers and—” 

Hitoshi groaned. “I’m already regretting helping you.”

“It was going to be funny!”

“Right.” Hitoshi shook his head, his damp hair returning to its poofed up state. “Well, we should head down for breakfast. Hopefully Bakugou won’t be there so you won’t have to hide from him again.”

“Maaaan, he’s probably waiting for me somewhere. Better run before he has the chance!” Kaminari set down the hair dryer, then darted toward the door. “I’ll get my things and meet you down there!” And then he disappeared.

Hitoshi rolled his eyes, “He’ll take a while, he always leaves his things scattered everywhere.” He stood up from the bed, going over to the desk to grab his bag. “You ready to go?”

“Um…” Now that Harry thought about it, what exactly was he supposed to do all day? “I’m not expected to sit in on your classes or anything, right?”

Hitoshi shrugged, and Harry hurried after him as he started walking out into the hallway. “Dad said last night that you’ve already graduated, so he’s not going to say that he’s enrolling you in classes or anything. You’ll still be at UA, though, and can choose to either shadow me, Pop, or him all day. Either way you’ll be around big groups of people because of class sizes, so sorry about that. If you stick with me it would at least be the same people all day.” 

Of course they wouldn’t want him alone in the dorms all day. Staying with Hitoshi sounded tempting, but… “Thanks, but I think I’ll follow Aizawa-san around.” Harry was here to get the man’s help. This was the only decision that made sense.

“Sure. I’ll take you by the faculty room after breakfast.” 

Harry nodded absently as they got on the lift. The ride down was quiet, but Harry was dismayed to see that they weren’t the only ones seeking out breakfast. A few of the girls were talking and eating on the couches, along with a tall boy with six arms, a boy with a tail, and another boy with a bird head. Then there were two others in the kitchen: next to the fridge stood a tall boy with long red and white hair pulled back into a high ponytail, and he was talking to a boy around Harry’s height with messy green hair. 

“Hitoshi-kun! Potter-kun! Good morning!” The green-haired boy waved, his smile bright as they made their way toward them.

“Morning Midori. Todoroki-kun.” Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at the plates the green haired guy was cleaning. “So you’re the ones that freed Bakugou?”

Midori grinned, “Sorry, but they looked good. Kacchan took off afterwards, though. Something about defending his clothes from idiots.”

Hitoshi snorted. “Looks like Ki’s going to take a while.”

“Potter-kun, would you like something to drink?”

Harry blinked. Todoroki was getting a cup from a cabinet. “Yes, um… water, please.” 

Todoroki shrugged, then made a chunk of ice with one hand, dropping it into the cup and then making a small flame with his other hand and holding that underneath the cup to melt the ice. Once the ice was completely water, he switched hands again and formed three perfectly square, dense chunks of ice and dropped them in, then looked up to see Harry staring. 

“Oh.” He looked back down at the cup, then up at Harry again. “Sorry. Habit. It’s good precision practice. I can get you water from the fridge, though, if you’d prefer.” 

“No!” Harry shook his head, the last thing he wanted to do was be rude and suggest that he wouldn’t drink it when it was obviously normal water and not poison or anything. He was _not_ paranoid. Everything was normal. “It’s fine. Just never seen someone do that, that’s all.” 

“Ah.” Todoroki brought the water over to him, and Harry took a tentative sip. It actually tasted really good. 

“Thank you.” 

“I don’t feel like cooking, and my other attempt at getting you a cooked meal failed, so here.” Hitoshi tossed him first a granola bar, then an apple, and Harry caught both in his right hand with ease. “Pop usually gets lunch for Dad and him from the cafeteria, so I assume he’ll pick up something for you, too.” Hitoshi hopped up on the counter, thanking Todoroki when he was handed his own glass of water. 

Harry tucked the granola bar into his pocket, but right as he took a bite of his apple, Midori turned to him, “Did you sleep well, Potter-kun? You looked really tired yesterday.”

Harry nodded, trying to chew fast so he could actually answer, which meant he almost missed the look that Todoroki sent Hitoshi. Merlin. Had other people heard him from the nightmare? He had screamed? At least Midori seemed not to know about it. 

“That’s good!” Midori smiled, “Will you be joining our classes? You don’t have a uniform on, but you’re our age, right?”

“I’ve graduated.” A lie. A huge lie. Please let them not ask him any questions about homework or something. “Aizawa-san is letting me sit in on his classes, though.”

“Oh! That’s awesome!” Did this boy ever stop smiling? “Aizawa-sensei’s classes are really interesting! And most schools don’t cover hero laws and ethics, so you’ll probably be able to learn a lot, too!” 

Ethics.

A Black taught law and ethics.

What in Merlin’s name kind of alternate universe was this?

“Sounds interesting.” He supposed Tonks at least had been in law enforcement… that was kind of similar. She’d probably been terrible at memorizing the laws, though.

Finished with the apple, Harry looked around for a trash can, but Todoroki held out his hand so Harry gave it to him instead. 

Immediately it turned to ash.

“Todo-kun!” Midori glared at the boy. “You’re cleaning up the ash!” 

Todoroki shrugged. “Sero likes to do that. It tests his tape.”

“Still! You made the mess!” 

Harry felt bad. Todoroki looked indifferent about the situation, but Midori was obviously frustrated. Should Harry not have given it to him? “I could—”

“No!” Midori vetoed that offer, so Harry sighed and turned his attention to his granola bar as the two continued to bicker over whether or not the ash should be cleaned up.

Hitoshi sighed, finishing his own food and turning toward the two that were arguing. “Hey Todoroki, what’d you do for your English essay?”

Todoroki gave Hitoshi a sullen glare, then turned to Midori. “Tell Shinsou that I wrote on the eighteenth century British transportation of ice to wealthy citizens abroad.” 

Harry couldn’t help but grin as Hitoshi groaned and tilted his head back. “It was worth a shot.” 

So Hitoshi’s classmates were used to avoiding his quirk. That was reassuring.

Midori sighed, “Well I guess I could clean—” 

“No. Sero will.” 

Harry finished off the granola bar, but this time when Harry looked around for a trash can and Todoroki held out his hand, Harry didn’t give him the wrapper. “I think I’ll just put it in the trash so there’s not more ash on the floor. If, um… if someone would let me know where it is?”

The boy had a slight frown, now, and it made Harry doubt if he’d made the right decision. Surely more ash on the floor was a bad thing?

Hitoshi grabbed the wrapper from him, hopping off the counter and circling around Todoroki to the other side of the fridge before tossing it into what Harry assumed was a trash bin. “Don’t give into him unless Sero’s actually in the room. Todoroki forgets to tell him about the ash and Sero’s unobservant, so the ash will stay there for weeks unless someone else steps in.” 

“Um… which person is Sero?”

“Tall, gangly, black hair with an undercut, and tape dispensers in his elbows.”

Tape dispensers? Harry would never understand quirks. 

Hitoshi’s eyes looked over at the clock above the main doors. “We should probably go ahead and walk over. It might take us a while to find Dad.” He turned back toward the two boys. “Would you let Ki know we went ahead?”

“Sure!” Midori gave them a thumbs up. “I’ll get this cleaned up, too.” 

Hitoshi snorted. “Good luck.” He started walking towards the doors, waving at his classmates when they called out different variations of ‘see you in a bit.’ 

“What do you mean Aizawa-san will be hard to find?”

“He usually slips away at some point in the morning and holes up somewhere in his sleeping bag until right before classes start.” 

What? “He keeps a sleeping bag on campus?”

“Yeah. Dad does a lot of night patrols, so he’s always tired in the morning and grabs naps when he can.” 

“But if he’s teaching during the day and patrolling at night, when does he sleep?”

“The eternal question.” Hitoshi shrugged. “I’ve lived with him for years and I still don’t really understand his sleep schedule. But basically he naps here and there.” 

Huh. That didn’t sound healthy. It explained why the man had looked so tired yesterday, though. Apparently he was just always that way.

The walk to campus didn’t feel quite as long now that Harry wasn’t lugging his trunk behind him, but the sheer size of UA was still intimidating. Having looked at the perimeter, Harry knew there was plenty he hadn’t seen, too. 

Harry was thankful that Hitoshi seemed just as prone to walking in silence as Aizawa was. Yamada must be the one that carried most of their family conversations. Or maybe the little girl they’d mentioned was talkative?

When they reached the main building, Hitoshi navigated the hallways with ease, and soon they were entering an unfamiliar room. Several rows of desks were laid out, with a small sitting area in the back where several adults milling around, though others were hunched over their desks and seemed to be working. 

Was this… their office? _Everyone’s_ office? It was so completely different from Hogwarts, Harry didn’t really know what to think. 

Yamada was in the corner by the couches, talking with a woman who had long black hair and was wearing an outfit that was far more revealing than anything Harry was used to. Hitoshi didn’t seem to think anything was strange, though, as he headed straight toward the two of them. 

“YO! Hey there, little listeners!” Yamada grinned at them, and the woman turned toward them, leaning down a little so that her chest was practically shoved into Harry’s face.

He hurriedly backed up a few steps, his face turning bright red. 

“And who’s this cutie? Shouta’s new charge?” 

Hitoshi sighed behind Harry. “Do you have to mess with everyone, Midnight-sensei?”

Sensei?! That meant teacher, right? Some of the other kids had used it for Aizawa. This woman was a teacher? And she dressed like this?

“This is Harry Potter.” Yamada gestured toward him, as if he’d been about to pat Harry’s shoulder, but stopped midway. Harry appreciated it. “He’ll be hanging around for a while, though I take it you two being here means he’s going to stay with me or Shouta for a while?”

Harry nodded. “I figured I’d stay with Aizawa-san.” 

“Sure, kiddo. He’s around somewhere, probably…” Yamada’s eyes scanned the room, and then he sighed. “Who am I kidding. OI!” Harry winced at the loud noise, but every head in the room turned toward them. “ANYONE SEEN ERASER?!”

“He’s asleep over here.” A gruff voice answered, and Harry looked over to meet red eyes. 

Red eyes and he was tall, so tall, and Harry could feel his heart rate quickening, his breath shortening—

There was a hand in front of his face.

Harry stumbled back a few steps, barely avoiding running into the woman. Hitoshi gave him a wry smile and lowered his arm while Yamada yelled a thank you and the adults went back to talking. 

“You ok, kid? Vlad’s eyes?” 

“I’m good.” Why did this keep happening? He shouldn’t be like this! He wasn’t weak. He shouldn’t be freaking out so much just after seeing someone’s eyes. 

Voldemort was _gone_.

Harry had killed him.

So why was he still messing with Harry’s life?

“Come on, let’s get you over to Aizawa. Unless you don’t want to go closer to Vlad?”

“It’s fine.” Harry needed to get over this. Avoiding people with red eyes wouldn’t solve anything. 

Red eyes were common with quirks.

It was natural here, not the product of a dark ritual. 

Completely natural.

He just had to get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long break between updates! I was working on finishing another wip so that I can hopefully spend more time on this. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and the look at life in the UA dorms! I really appreciate all of your comments and kudos, so thank y'all! 
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	8. Are Too Often Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter:  
Harry met several members of 1A as he and Shinsou prepared for the day and then went to find Aizawa in the staff room.

Harry waited.

He tapped his foot on the floor, sat in the chair, stood back up again, then finally curled up in a ball against the wall. At least in this position he could ignore the teachers milling around the room.

Throughout it all, Aizawa remained asleep.

How could he even sleep in this noisy room?

One by one, the teachers eventually left, and a loud bell even sounded overhead, but still Aizawa didn’t move. Yamada had told him not to worry about waking the man, but surely he would be late?

But then Harry heard a buzzing noise coming from inside the sleeping bag, and the zipper slowly opened. The hero emerged, barely sparing Harry a glance as he yawned and stretched his back. “Follow me. Though you’ll probably be bored since I teach in Japanese.”

“That’s fine.” It’s not like Harry was actually a student here. He just wanted Aizawa to trust him, and if Harry was never around the hero, then that would never happen.

The walk down the corridor was silent, and when they finally reached a classroom, Aizawa just motioned for Harry to sit at the teacher’s desk at the front of the room.

A frantic glance around the classroom showed that there really weren’t any other open seats, much to Harry’s dismay. But there was no way he was going to sit front and center like that! Determined, Harry drug the chair over to the corner, where he only felt slightly less awkward. 

They were all staring at him.

He could feel it.

Aizawa said something, and they stopped immediately, their attention focusing on the teacher. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. 

Not that Harry really had any idea what he could do to make the man trust him while all he was doin was sitting at the front of a classroom, staying off to one side as the man lectured about who knows what. 

No one had red eyes, which was another relief. Though there was one student sitting close to him, a girl with long hair, whose eyes were very snakelike, and Harry could see the second eyelid blink every now and then. Every time it happened his brain froze, images of Nagini and Bathilda Bagshot….

No. 

This wasn’t a snake possessing a human’s corpse. 

It was just a quirk.

He’d seen people like this before the enclave all the time. It was normal. 

It just hadn’t been his normal for eight years now. Seven years? Something like that. Unlike other muggleborns, Harry had never visited his relatives in the week the enclaves opened up during the summer. He doubted the Dursleys would have appreciated him showing up out of the blue like that. They’d been thrilled to ship him off to a boarding school for the quirkless. 

Harry could readjust, though. There had been a girl in his elementary class with snake eyes. It wasn’t that big of a deal. 

Harry jumped when the bell rang. 

Had it really been an hour? And now Aizawa was turning toward the door, and Harry scrambled after him, confused. Why was he leaving? That was the signal for classes to change, right? But most of the students were staying seated… The man glanced down at him as he held the door open, then sighed at Harry’s look of confusion. “Unlike in England, in Japan the teachers change classrooms, not the students.”

“Oh. That’s…” He supposed it was fewer people moving around, but that meant they couldn’t personalize the classrooms at all, which seemed odd. “Why?”

The man shrugged, already walking toward the next class. “It’s easier than dealing with a stampede every hour or so.” 

Still… though he supposed Aizawa’s class didn’t really need a lot of personal touches to the room itself. Not like potions. “Midori-san said you teach law and ethics?”

“His name’s Midoriya, Hitoshi and some of the others just shorten it.” Harry blinked, suddenly grateful that he hadn’t used that name around the other boy. It would be so much easier to remember names if everyone would just call each other the same thing! “And yes. I teach those classes and help with the hero courses some.”

Well, that last bit sounded far more like the Black family. Every one Harry’d met was a fierce fighter. Saying that would probably only make the man annoyed, though. 

Aizawa abruptly stopped, pushing open a door and walking into another classroom. 

Harry tentatively dragged another chair off to the side before looking out at the class after Aizawa started speaking. One thing was for sure—his students respected him and didn’t dare look distracted while he lectured. 

There were some red eyes in this class, but thankfully they were all toward the back of the room, and Harry was able to relax somewhat. Sitting down like this, he couldn’t even really see them. 

It was kind of interesting to watch the hero lecture, Harry supposed. Aizawa’s tone was dry and clipped, but every once in a while he would become emphatic about something, and every pen in the class hurried to take notes. 

It wasn’t that unlike Hogwarts, really. 

They had quirks; Hogwarts had magic. Normal was just a concept that people like the Dursleys clung to; it didn’t mean anything anymore. Or if it did, it was a lot different than what the Dursleys considered to be normal. 

The morning continued on in that manner—Harry getting pulled from class to class, sitting in front and dealing with curious stares until Aizawa started lecturing. 

He hated the stares, but at least they didn’t stare the whole time. Harry could deal with a few minutes, even if it made his skin itch. The red eyes brought back far too many memories and the few students with reptilian quirks made his wand hand twitch and sometimes the students who had fur made him think of Fenrir and another student had spider eyes like an acromantula and—no. 

Harry forced himself to breathe deeply and unclench his hand.

This wasn’t a good train of thought.Thinking of that forest where he’d…

No.

Harry started counting the ceiling tiles. Anything to distract himself. 

The worst, though… the worst one was definitely the class before lunch. There was one boy who was tall with pale skin and red eyes, and Harry had turned to look at the wall that whole class, sitting on hands that were clenched into tight fists. 

He didn’t want to deal with it. He couldn’t—he was dead! He was. He wasn’t going to bother him, not any more. Everything was fine. He wasn’t even in England. He was dead. 

“Kid.” 

Harry blinked. Aizawa was standing in between him and the rest of the class, blocking his view of them, but he could still feel their stares. “The bell rang. We can go to lunch now.” 

“Oh.” Harry quickly stood up, blushing. “Sorry.” 

“You ok?”

“Fine, yeah. Promise. Just… got lost in memories, I guess.” Or had a panic attack trying not to think about memories, but that was basically the same thing, right?

One eyebrow rose, the man pointedly looking down where red indents were cut into Harry’s palms from how hard he’d been squeezing his fists.

Harry stuffed them in his pockets and walked toward the door, ignoring the hero’s sigh behind him. 

“You were on your own for a while before you came here, right?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah.” There had been Kreacher, but explaining that would be complicated. Harry knew he was adjusting badly to being around quirks, but some of them were just… well, they were hard to deal with sometimes. 

Harry still wasn’t sure what to think about Aizawa. He seemed to like teaching, and to like his subject. He was definitely a Slytherin, but he clearly cared about his family, and seemed to care about his students, even if he was firm with them. And then there was the fact that he worked himself to death to help people both as a hero and a teacher…

It didn’t make sense. What Slytherin did that?

“Come on. Hizashi and I always eat lunch in private.”

“Hitoshi mentioned that.” Though Harry did wonder where the man had been yesterday, then, since Yamada had eaten lunch with Harry, instead. Had Aizawa been avoiding him? If so, Harry was grateful that he’d decided not to do so now. Did that mean he’d made some progress?

The man was silent for most of the walk, but once they left the building and were walking across the grounds, he spoke again. “Red eyes, reptilian quirks, quirks with fur. You’re fine with tall height and pale skin on their own, but if you add that to one of the others, you become more unnerved. Did I miss any?”

Harry winced. He knew he’d been obvious in the last class, but he thought he’d been better at hiding how much the quirks bothered him before then… Merlin, this was frustrating. “I’m working on it.”

“I’m not judging you..” Aizawa glanced over at him, rubbing at the back of his neck while they walked. “But we can’t help you if we don’t know where you need help.” 

“I don’t need help with that.” He needed help with the Black family issues, but Aizawa wasn’t offering to do anything about those. 

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

“It’s not!” Harry glared at the man as he stopped in front of a building. “As soon as we straighten everything out, I’ll be gone and I won’t have to deal with any of that any more. I’ll be fine.” 

“Do you really believe that?”

Harry shrugged, looking toward the building doors. “It’s not like I’d have any reason to leave the enclave again.”

Silence. 

Harry snorted. “I want to help improve the enclave and make sure… well, to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself.” He could say that much, at least. “I can’t do that if I keep leaving.” Though knowing a bit more about _why_ Aizwa hated them would be nice. 

Aizawa hummed under his breath, then turned toward the building and opened the doors. Inside was a huge open forest. Harry stared at it in confusion. “You eat lunch here?”

“For today.’ The man shrugged. “I help with the heroics classes in the afternoon and we’ll be in this gym. Mic was fine with having lunch here, and I thought getting here before class might let you relax some.” 

Harry stared at the man. “Might help me relax?”

“Bottling up all your emotions isn’t good for you. You have a bird form, right? I figured flying around might help you release some energy.”

Harry frowned. He didn’t like it. Such a wide open area…. He glanced at the trees. Anyone might be there. As if Aizawa could read Harry’s mind, he spoke again. “The gym is safe—just you, me, and Mic when he gets here. Nezu might watch on cameras, but that’s it.” 

Harry bit his lip. If he wanted the man to trust him, he’d have to show some trust first. And to fly again….

Harry’d never flown in his bird form very far—just around Grimmauld. But here… his eyes scanned the forest again, and before he even knew what was happening Harry was morphing, flapping his wings and darting as fast as he could through the treetops. 

It was exhilarating.

Diving between branches, around rocks, over bushes, under overhangs—he could do this for hours. He let out a loud cry, spiraling up through the leaves and breaking through the treetops to hover over the forest. 

He could still make out Aizawa from here, and a second figure was standing next to him—it had to be Yamada with that tall blonde hair. Harry let out another cry and darted back toward them, circling above the two a few times before allowing himself to drift back toward the ground. 

He waited until after his claws touched the ground to morph back, the two men both watching him as he shifted. Yamada was grinning at him. “So I take it Sho was right and the flight helped, huh? I don’t think I’ve seen you smile since you got here.” 

Harry blinked. He… he hadn’t even realized he was smiling now, or that he hadn’t been, for that matter. Flying had been so nice, though, even if he hadn’t been on a broom. “It’s been a long time since I’ve flown.” Grimmauld didn’t count, not really. The last time would’ve been on the dragon from Gringotts, and he hadn’t really been able to appreciate it, then.

Aizawa sat down on the ground, opening up a styrofoam box that was filled with food. “We can come to one of the gyms for lunch everyday, if you want.”

“I couldn’t possibly…”

“We have to come out to the gyms anyway, for heroics classes. It’s no problem!” Yamada grinned at him. “Gotta stretch your wings some, right?”

“Thank you.” Harry ducked his head down, not really sure of what else to say. 

Harry suddenly felt warm, too warm, as a wave of heat passed over him, but Yamada was handing him a package of food, and the warmth disappeared, so Harry pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and thanked the man again and sat down across from Aizawa.

“I brought you some western utensils, too!” Yamada grinned as he handed them to Harry. “Lunch Rush had to go to the backroom to find them, but we always keep some in the cafeteria for the international students!” 

Wait. “Lunch Rush is a person?” 

“Yup!” The man waved his chopsticks around. “The students decided he needed a hero name for feeding everyone all on his own everyday!” 

With as big as UA was, that definitely seemed true. “Does his quirk help him with the food, then?”

“Yup!” Yamada nodded, lifting a styrofoam lid off his container to reveal some sort of fried meat on top of rice, along with some vegetables. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so we can trade if you would prefer mine?”

Oh. Harry quickly opened the styrofoam box in his lap like Yamada had. It looked like strips of fried chicken maybe? “I’m sure this is fine, thank you.” 

Harry felt ridiculously awkward, sitting between the two heroes. Yamada started chatting about his classes, and Aizawa seemed content to sit there and listen, chewing his food in silence. 

But then Yamada asked Harry how his day had gone. “Fine.”

“Don’t lie, kid.” Aizawa’s tired eyes were judging him, and Yamada sighed.

“That bad, huh?”

Harry frowned. “It went _fine_. I didn’t have any strong reactions to anyone.”

“There were dents in your palms from your nails and you spent the last class facing the wall. I’d call that a strong reaction.”

Harry grit his teeth in frustration. Physical reactions didn’t count; not unless it was something big. Those were just small things. It’s not like he could explain that to them, though, so Harry just shrugged. “I wouldn’t.”

“Great.” Aizawa was rubbing his forehead now, and he set his chopsticks down on the empty tray. “Would this stronger reaction have anything to do with the gifts you enclave people have?”

Harry’s heart froze. “What do you mean?” Did Aizawa actually know about magic? In one way, that would make his task a lot easier, but if he told the principal—

“My mother said that people in the enclaves have gifts that quirks can’t even hope to combat and that if I ran across someone who could still accomplish quirk-like feats after I used my quirk on them, then I should run away as fast as possible.”

Harry swallowed. “Why haven’t you?”

“You certainly fit the bill, but you’re a kid who’s seeking my help to destroy her family.” Aizawa shrugged. “My mother never could remember much about them, since they abandoned her not long after she gained her quirk. What she does remember, though, wasn’t pleasant.” 

Oh. That was… well, that was pretty much what Harry’d expected, actually. “What was her quirk?”

The man stared at him, clearly considering whether or not to answer the question. Finally, he spoke again. “Her quirk only worked on people from the enclave. Your abilities couldn’t affect her. Outside of the enclaves, she was as good as quirkless.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Bloody hell. A quirk like that… no wonder they’d abandoned her! “Families like the Blacks believed that their purity made them powerful. For one of their own to not have their abilities… no matter what her quirk was, they would have cast her out. To have a quirk that would let her defy them…” Harry shook his head, “I’m glad they didn’t kill her.” 

Aizawa shrugged. “She said they couldn’t—everything they used on her failed. A physical attack would have done the trick, probably, but one of her relatives took her out of the enclave before the others could try that.” 

Harry frowned. If she blocked even cursed objects and house elf magic, though… that would have been formidable. He wondered if the Black that had saved her had been Andromeda. She was the oldest Black he knew that was on their side of the war, but no, she wouldn’t even have been born when all of this happened, right? Aizawa was only a few years younger than Sirius. “I’m glad she got out.” If they hadn’t killed her, they would have made her life miserable. Even if she could nullify magic somehow, there still were far more of them, and she’d just been a little girl.

“Growing up out here without any king of support was hardly a nice life.” 

“I’m sure, but…” Harry ran a hand through his hair. How did he explain this? He set the chopsticks down on the container, his fingers idly tapping against the rim. 

Yamada suddenly hissed, and Harry looked up at the man, startled. His eyes looked livid, and he was staring at Harry’s right hand. “What is that?”

What was the man… Harry looked down again. 

Oh.

‘I will not break rules’ was still scrawled out on the back of his right hand. He sighed and held his hands up, turning them so that the English would be right side up and they could see the matching ‘I must not tell lies’ on Harry’s left hand, written out in Harry’s chicken scratch handwriting. He was surprised the man could make out the words, most people didn’t realize they said anything unless they looked closely. 

“They’re scars. From a… well, an object in the enclave. The Blacks would have had a lot of objects like this, actually, and that’s what I’m trying to destroy. Had your mother stayed there, Aizawa-san, I’m sure they would have used even worse things than this on your mother. They would have found a way, even with her quirk. That’s why I’m glad she escaped.” 

“Who did that to you, then?”

Harry blinked, then shrugged, setting his hands back down. “One of my teachers, but she’s in prison. It doesn’t matter now.” 

“A teacher?!” Yamada’s voice came out in a strangled screech, and Harry winced at the sound.

“At least she’s in prison.” Aizawa’s whole body was tense. 

Honestly, Harry doubted the blood quills had been part of the charges against Umbridge, but it was best not to get into that. “She… well, she wasn’t a nice person. The rest of our teachers did what they could, but given the situation, it wasn’t much. After everything ended, though, she was sent to prison because she supported the man that was trying to kill me.” 

Yamada hissed something under his breath in Japanese, but Aizawa clasped his hands together, leaning forward slightly. “Like the Black family.” 

“Right.” 

The man closed his eyes. 

“Sho…” Yamada’s hand was on Aizawa’s knee now. Harry winced. Yeah, he supposed learning that your family liked to torture people wasn’t an easy thing. 

After a few seconds, black eyes opened again and stared at him. “How many people are there in your enclave that are like the Black family?”

Harry winced. “A lot. Most are in prison now, though.” 

That earned a snort. “And you want to go back? Most means there are still some out there.”

“We’re working on that.” Harry glared at the man. It really wasn’t easy to press charges against some of them! Or to find the ones that were good at hiding. “Besides, there’s a lot of good people, too. My friends and their families. I fought side by side with them; I can’t just abandon them.” They were all still fighting right now, in a way. Just with laws and ideals instead of their wands. “And I have to go back and destroy those artifacts, anyways.” 

“You’re safe here, you know.” 

Harry frowned. “The serial killer is gone. I’m safe there now, too.”

A wave of heat passed over him, and Harry took a deep breath. He had to control his emotions better. He couldn’t let this get the best of him. He set down his fork and the container. “I’m going for another flight.” 

Yamada frowned. “That’s fine, but you ok, kid?”

“Just need to clear my head.” Harry ignored their concerned eyes and morphed into his smaller shape, taking off before the men had time to protest. 

Instantly, he felt more relaxed. 

If only he could stay in this form and not worry about any of this. If he could just fly and hunt, and enjoy the wind through his feathers…. Life would be so much better then. 

Students entered the gym at some point, but Harry ignored them. He didn’t know how much time passed as he stayed like that, cutting through the air, and focusing on the air whipping past him. But then another wave of warmth passed through him, and Harry faltered, swooping down to land on a branch.

What was happening?

He didn’t feel out of control at all, his emotions were fine! Why was he feeling this weird warmth?

Was something off with his animagus form? He’d felt it earlier, but just to be safe… Harry glanced around him There was no one in sight, so he shifted, crouching on the branch in human form.

He still felt the waves of warmth. At least, he did for a few seconds, but then they were gone. 

What was happening? Harry leaned against the trunk, trying to ignore the sounds of fighting in the distance—it was just the class practicing, everyone here was _fine_—he didn’t need to investigate the noises; he needed to figure out what was happening with his magic. What magic caused waves of heat like this?

Harry couldn’t think of any. Well, not any besides dark curses, but he would have other symptoms if that was the case. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

One of the boys from Hitoshi's class—Midoriya—ran underneath the tree, shouting to someone else about needing to spread out. Then he skidded to a stop, staring up at Harry in surprise. “Why are you all the way out here?!”

His privacy gone, Harry jumped down off the branch. He would have to figure out the problem with his magic some other time. “Should I not be? Aizawa-san said I could go in the forest.” Well, he had earlier. The heroes had probably assumed he’d stay in bird form.

“It’s just, we’re doing a class exercise right now, so you could get—”

Harry saw something flash in the corner of his eye, but as he was ducking, Midoriya tackled him, sending them both to the ground. “Ashido! Civilian!” 

Harry stared at the tree that was melting behind where they had just been standing. “What in Merlin’s name is that quirk?!”

“Acid.” 

And then the pink girl was skidding into the area next to them. “Oh gosh, are you ok, Potter-kun?!” She knelt down next to him, and Harry blinked, disconcerted by her eyes. She kept talking in Japanese, waving her arms around frantically in concern. 

Harry scrambled out from under Midoriya’s arm, his skin beginning to crawl at the contact. “I’m fine. Sorry for getting in your way.” 

“It's not your fault! We should always be prepared to watch for civilians, even at UA!” Midoriya gave him a bright smile. “If you’d get on my back, I can take you up front where you’ll be safe from any crossfire.” 

Harry stared wistfully at the trees. He’d really liked staying out here, though… but he also didn’t want to be melted by accident, or do magic on reflex because a quirk surprised him. He sighed. “Can we just walk back?” The thought of getting on someone’s back wasn’t very appealing. 

Midoriya immediately looked nervous, while the girl started cackling. “Have fun with that, Mido! I’m going on ahead!” She ran off, throwing acid in front of her to somehow slide forward on the ground at a ridiculous speed. 

Midoriya sighed. “Time is kind of impor—

A buzzer rang over the gym.

“Nevermind.” The boy’s shoulders sagged. “I’m guessing Iida-kun found the goal.” 

Harry frowned. “Were you guys doing a race of some sort?”

“Kind of. We were seeing who could breach the building defenses the fastest.”

Harry winced. “Sorry for getting in the way.”

“It’s fine! Making sure you’re safe is more important.” The boy gave him another bright smile. 

Either Midoriya knew a shortcut, or Harry hadn’t flown nearly as far as he thought, because it wasn’t too long before they found the edge of the forest, and Harry could see Aizawa standing around in front of Hitoshi’s class, lecturing them about something. 

Cautiously, Harry made his way over to the group and sat against the wall behind Aizawa. Unlike the other classes, 3A didn’t stare at him, or even spare him much of a glance, instead focusing on Aizawa (though a few of them teased Midoriya about something, judging from how the boy started to blush). 

They were all so carefree. Harry didn’t understand. They were training to be heroes, which meant they would be frequently in life or death battles, so how could they be so carefree? Sure they were paying attention to everything their teacher said, but… 

Their attitude was so different from how he’d always felt in Defense. 

Harry sighed and tried to relax, his mind drifting back to the weird magic from earlier. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t figure it out.

He needed Hermione—he’d have to send a letter to the ministry postbox so he could reach her, but who knew how long that would take using purely muggle means… if he could find the Japanese enclave this would be much easier. 

Right as class ended and 1A began to disperse, the gym doors banged open and the principal entered. “I have news!” Nezu walked toward them, shooing away the students that were still hanging around. When everyone was out of hearing range, the rodent turned to face Aizawa and Harry. “I wanted to talk to you both—there’s been a report of a young quirkless girl in London who’s gone missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I was having trouble putting everything together, but I feel like it finally got there. As always, thank y'all so much for all the comments and kudos! I really appreciate them and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!


	9. Yer A Wizard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review of last chapter: Harry spent the day shadowing Aizawa and was exposed to several triggers for his PTSD as he encountered various students. Concerned, Aizawa and Yamada took him to one of the gyms where he could fly some. Harry stayed there, thinking about the odd waves of magical heat he was feeling, and Midoriya finds him while Class 3A is doing a heroics drill. Harry returns to the front of the gym at that point and waits until their class ends, at which point Nezu arrives and informs Harry and Aizawa that a quirkless girl in England has gone missing.
> 
> I tried to keep this relatively free of manga spoilers, but I'm sorry. I give up. There's just too much good manga material that I can't resist using :/ soooo manga spoilers for chapter 194

A quirkless girl was missing. Harry’s heart clenched in his chest. Killed? 

He didn’t want to think about that possibility. The principal hadn’t said killed, but… well, there were still death eaters missing, and who knows if they had enclave portkeys still from when they’d infiltrated the ministry. During the war, the death eaters had killed several muggleborns before they’d even been informed about the magical world. If one of the remaining death eaters had decided to return to that task…

He didn’t like this one bit. 

Harry swallowed. “How old was she?”

“Nine years old.” The principle stood there, his hands behind his back. “There have been no clues so far—her parents say it’s just like she disappeared from her bed. The house doesn’t even show signs of a forced entry. Simply magical, isn’t it?”

Harry glared at the mouse. He definitely knew too much. But this girl… “Bloody hell.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. There was no way the enclaves had noticed—they wouldn’t notice she was missing for another two years when they invited her to Hogwarts. The government was busy enough right now without trying to keep track of everyone who had yet to enter their world.

“But you have a clue, don’t you, Potter-san?” 

Harry frowned. “I might.” But he couldn’t reveal magic, so how could he…

“You asked for her age—not a physical description. Why?” 

Harry swore under his breath. He couldn’t answer that and the rat knew it! 

Harry couldn’t wait for approval if a girl’s life was in danger, but he also couldn’t break the law, but getting approval from England would take forever, but Harry didn’t know where the Japanese enclave was, so he couldn’t go there to reach England faster! Bloody hell this was a mess! The facial recognition thing UA had would really help with this search if the principal knew what he was looking for, but Harry had to follow the law! He couldn’t just tell them, not when it was so important right now to adhere to the laws and…

Wait.

Ron was always talking about how Harry should use his fame more. And Harry might not be able to find the enclave, but what if he made the enclave find him? That was it! “Aizawa-san, can you take me to somewhere that’s a deserted stretch of public property?” 

“What?”

“I need the enclave’s approval to tell your principle everything so we can help this girl, but I don’t know where the Japanese enclave is, so I need to make them notice me. We can’t wait for bureaucratic approval to go through the normal system when a girl’s life is in danger.” It was one thing if it was just artifacts that were relatively secured, and another thing entirely if someone’s life was on the line. 

Black eyes narrowed. “And how are you going to do that?”

“It’s fairly easy, actually. I just need to make them think I’m breaking the law. I won’t _actually_ be breaking the law, though! I just need to contact law enforcement, and they’ll come out to find me if they think I’m breaking the law.”

The man rubbed at his forehead. “And this is the only way you can think of to find out where the enclave is?”

“Well… yes.” Harry shrugged. “They’re impossible to find for a reason.” All enclaves were warded against even magical means of detection--people didn’t need to find them if they never left in the first place. 

Aizawa released a long sigh. “Fine. But I’m not heading into that kind of situation alone. Who knows how many of them will show up, and I don’t even know what your kind’s abilities are.” 

Bloody paranoid Blacks. Sure, he was asking the man to go to a completely isolated location with a person he barely knew who had dangerous unknown abilities and was promising to bring other unknowns to the same spot… Damn it. Why did the man’s paranoia have to make sense?

The key to this was that Harry _wouldn’t_ be breaking the law. Aizawa was a muggle, but he was also part of a wizarding house, so he was allowed to know about magic. Though _technically_…“Yamada-san and Hitoshi can come since they’re related to you, but I’m only not breaking the law because you’re part of the House of Black.” And because Harry as the heir could authoritatively make the claim that the other two are, as well. “If anyone else comes, then the enclave officials really will have cause to arrest us.”

Aizawa frowned, weighing his options. “How many officials should come?”

“Two; four tops. In England our teams move in pairs, but I don’t know about here.” 

“It’s a risk, but a calculated one.” Nezu nodded. “Give me the location and we’ll send back up if you don’t report back every half hour.” 

Aizawa rubbed at the back of his neck. “If this works you’ll tell us everything and we’ll have a lead on this girl?”

“I can give you a list of names and recruit the British enclave’s help.” 

“Fine.” Aizawa’s eyes became more determined. “Hizashi and Hitoshi join us, and I’ll take you to the forest north of campus. Nezu, I’ll send you the coordinates when we arrive.” 

Nezu beamed at them. “I look forward to your return!” 

Aizawa nodded, already pulling out his phone. “We’ll keep you updated.”

“Wonderful!” The rodent nodded, “I wish you luck!” And then he was walking away, perfectly calm with his hands still folded behind his back. 

Harry let out a shaky breath. He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but it was the only thing he could think of at the moment. He couldn’t let the death eaters kill someone else. So many people had already died… if he could save this girl, he would do whatever it took. 

And trying to do this all within the law was the right thing to do. There had been too much lawlessness during the wars, plus this would only take a few hours. Hopefully. 

His name should have that kind of weight, right?

Harry was really hoping it did, but this was another country… but the enclaves were incredibly tightly connected. The death eaters had fled everywhere and all the governments were trying to help catch them, so surely… 

Harry flinched as another wave of warmth ran through his body, but before he could think about it, Hitoshi returned, confusion clear as he held up his phone. “You asked me to come back?”

“Suit up.” Aizawa nodded toward one of the back rooms. “We have a mission.”

Purple eyebrows rose, but Hitoshi didn’t ask any more questions as he turned and headed into the room.

Harry didn’t like this. Aizawa’s quirk was useless against magic. Hitoshi had a powerful quirk, and Harry assumed Yamada did, as well, but he didn’t like that they were approaching this like some sort of fight. “They won’t hurt you. You’re all civilians to them.” If they did anything, they’d just erase their memories of whatever magic Harry used in front of them. 

Black eyes stared at him. “That still leaves hurting you as an option.” 

“I doubt it.” Harry shrugged. “Like I said, I won’t _actually_ be breaking the law. Plus there would be an international incident and all that.” Things would be tense, but no aurors attacked before verifying the situation, and Japanese officials weren’t even in a state of war. 

“You’re that sure they’ll know who you are?” 

Harry couldn’t help the dark laugh that burst out. He wished that would be a problem. “They will.” There was no way Harry’s scar wouldn’t be recognized. No, the true test would be if his fame came with any influence. 

A few seconds later, Yamada came strolling into the building. “What’s this about a family mission?”

“Wait for Hitoshi.”

The changing room door opened, and Harry blinked at Hitoshi’s new outfit. He hadn’t really been paying attention to it earlier, but Hitoshi had the same scarf around his shoulders as Aizawa, along with some sort of voice modification device like Yamada, but his was strapped over his mouth instead of around his neck. 

“And Mind Jack’s here! So no need to wait.” The man grinned, one arm wrapping over Hitoshi’s shoulders. “What’s the mission?”

Mind Jack? Was that Hitoshi’s codename? Like Mic and Eraserhead? 

Oh. Aizawa was gesturing at Harry for him to explain. “We need to get the Japanese enclave’s attention so that we can, um… expedite the principal’s request to know about them. There’s a little girl in a lot of trouble, and I can help, but only _legally_ if you all know about the enclaves.”

“How is expediting the request a team mission?” Hitoshi’s voice through the mask was… disconcerting. Like it was hard to identify who was speaking, even though Harry knew the question had to have come from the other boy. 

Harry took a deep breath, then explained his plan. By the end, the three were exchanging uncertain looks, but Yamada nodded. “Fine. If you’re sure this will work, we’ll trust you and provide back up.” 

Trust. 

That was definitely nice to hear. 

When they reached the forest, Aizawa led them for a good ten minutes through the trees before he finally stopped, pulling out his phone to presumably send their location to the principal. 

Harry bit his lip. 

He was going to reveal magic to them.

He’d never done this before. 

With a flick of his wrist, his wand sprang into his hand. Three sets of eyes immediately focused on it. 

Breathe. Just breathe. 

These people weren’t like the Dursleys. They wouldn’t treat him differently. Everything would work out fine. 

Harry swallowed. “You might want to keep anything electronic at a distance. It doesn’t react well with our… um, well, our abilities.” 

Hitoshi raised one eyebrow, but he took a few steps further away, as did Yamada. Aizawa stood his ground, simply raising one eyebrow when Harry glanced at him.

Harry took another deep breath, then looked around the clearing again before casting homenum revelio. Just the four of them. Good. 

Harry raised his wand and began chanting in Latin closing his eyes as he tried to remember the incantation. If he could pull off this spell, it would give them even more privacy, but he’d never used it; just seen it in the Black library when he’d been looking up spells to help with Hogwarts’ reconstruction.

All around them, the ground began rising, stones shifting to form a wall among the trees. The thrum of magic filling the air made him smile, his shoulders relaxing a little. It was good to be using magic again. And the spell was working, too! Harry was careful to keep one side open, though. After all, he wanted Japan’s aurors to find them, not to spend hours circling around a magically shielded rock dome. 

Harry didn’t dare turn around to see the others’ reactions. Instead he reinforced his own clothes, coating them with some of the spells Hermione had used on their clothes during the war. He thought about doing the same for the other three, but with the electronics, Harry decided not to risk it. Other means of defense would have to work.

Harry took a deep breath, focusing on a happy memory and calling forth his patronus. The familiar shape of Prongs sprang from his wand, landing lightly on the ground. The deer gave looked around the area, then trotted toward Harry when it realized there wasn’t any threat.

“Go stand by Aizawa-san.” The deer nodded, then bounded over to the three heroes.

Harry cautiously looked toward them. They were standing with their backs the rock wall, Aizawa still in front, but with Hitoshi behind him and Yamada the furthest back, and the blonde looked the most surprised. Harry shuddered at Hitoshi and Aizawa’s blank expressions. It wasn’t normal to react to magic this way. Was it because they were used to seeing strange quirks? 

Harry slowly moved his wand hand to point toward them, but was careful to keep the tip pointing at the ground. “The deer will help guard you, though it can’t block everything, so if you do see something coming your way, dodge. As another precaution, I’m going to make a shield. It will block a lot more things, but again, not everything.”

“What do you mean, you’re going to make a shield?” Aizawa was watching the deer cautiously as it circled around them.

“I’m not really the best at the theory, but…” Harry shrugged, then waved his wand again. “Protego maxima!” The bright blue light coalesced in front of the heroes, forming the familiar, sturdy shield. “That’s a shield.” 

With that last bit of information, Harry turned around and took a deep breath, his back to the muggles. He needed to concentrate. Watching their reactions would only distract him. He would deal with the fall out later. 

Harry spun his wand in his hand. If all he had to work with was powerful attack spells, he would just have to use the trees as targets. Plus darker magic should bring aurors faster, which could only help. 

Though more targets than just the six or so trees inside the rock dome would be better. “Herbivicus!” Harry pointed his wand at the ground. Grass, bushes, and trees immediately sprouted, growing tall around them as Harry repeated the spell and poured more force into it. 

Satisfied with the dense vegetation, Harry took one last deep breath, and then he began.

“Expulso!” A tree exploded, the shockwaves of air scattering leaves and bark everywhere, including toward the heroes. 

Harry’s wand immediately pointed toward the flying debris. “Flipendo duo!” the blast of wind flew from his wand, knocking Harry back a few steps as it hurtled forward, throwing the debris far away. 

He had to be more careful. The heroes didn’t have anything besides his shield. 

Still, though. The bigger the spell, the better.

Harry cast bombard maxima, destroying more and more of the undergrowth, alternating with expulso and congringo until there were almost no plants left, but still no sound of apparition. 

Harry grit his teeth in annoyance. They had to have some people monitoring magic use, so why had no one shown up yet?

Fine. He’d just have to go bigger. 

Harry pointed his wand at a branch on the far side of the clearing, right next to the stone perimeter. “Draconifors!” 

The branch twisted, barely forming a hungarian horntail as Harry cast again. “Engorgio!” 

The dragon roared. 

And then Harry was rolling under flames, falling into the familiar mode of a life and death battle. 

Spell after spell flowed from his wand—serpensortia, incendio tria, glacius tria, protego after protego, depulso and fumos, anything to give him an advantage over the roaring dragon. 

And then the dragon was hit from the side by a bombarda.

A bombarda Harry hadn’t cast.

A shield immediately flew from his wand between him and the rock opening, but then Harry realized what the extra bombarda meant. 

The Japanese wizards were finally here! 

Harry grinned. “Finite!” 

The dragon disappeared. With the smokescreen around him, though, Harry couldn’t see anyone. “Ventus.” A strong breeze kicked up, clearing the smoke before dying back down. 

Three figures stood in the rock wall’s opening—a woman and two men. All three had white headbands and their long hair pulled back in tight ponytails. They were wearing some kind of… kimono? With a light blue robe or something on top of it? Harry wasn’t sure what the outfit was called, but the symbols on the robe were all the same, except the woman had an additional one. 

Harry walked forward, placing himself squarely in between them and the heroes. “Are you the Japanese aurors?”

One of them stepped forward, his voice angry, but besides Harry’s own name Harry had no clue what was said, since the man spoke in Japanese. 

Aizawa responded, though, and said something that made the three figures look at each other in confusion.

Finally, the woman stepped forward. “I am Yamamoto Shinji. This is Tanaka Yuka and Suzuki Taro. Potter-sama, you are related to these heroes?”

Harry nodded. “Aizawa-san is descended from the Black family, and I’m the Black heir. The other two are his husband and son, and thus part of the Black family by extension and allowed to know about magic by British Law not only for this reason, but also because I am currently living with them.” Kind of. He was rooming with Hitoshi, at least. 

The two wizards and the witch exchanged looks, then the first wizard spoke again. “Then you are performing a demonstration for them?”

“Yes, but more importantly I wanted to get your attention and had no other methods of contacting the Japanese enclave.” 

Yamamoto’s eyebrows rose. “You couldn’t have asked your government to give you access to our location?”

Harry shook his head, “That would have taken far too long. There’s a quirkless girl, most likely a muggleborn, who is missing in England. I think it’s related to the Death Eaters and want to work with muggle authorities to capture whoever it is since they’re hiding outside the enclave. But in order to do that, I need your government’s permission to inform UA’s principal about magic.”

That earned startled looks. “Would this have to do with the form he submitted?”

“Kind of.” Harry sighed, rubbing at the back of his head. “I ran into him while looking for Aizawa-san and discovered that he’s been stalking the enclaves and finding out information about us for a while now. Honestly I think it’s only a matter of time before he connects the dots.” A lie, if Harry had ever told one. The principal had clearly done all the connecting of dots and was just waiting for Harry to confirm things. 

The woman, Yamamoto, frowned. “We will go ask someone about the matter. Wait here, please. We will return shortly.” And then they disapparated. 

They were gone, and Harry was left with the three pro heroes. 

The three heroes who had just witnessed him alter the landscape, create a dragon, _fight_ said dragon, and who knows what else—Harry couldn’t really remember all the spells he’d cast. 

It would be a bit much to ask them to wait on the questions until the principal could ask everything he wanted, too, but Merlin did Harry wish that was an option. 

He slowly turned around to see the three staring at him, the pearly blue substance of his shield still holding steady in the air in front of them, and Prongs now positioned next to Hitoshi. 

Harry felt nauseous, but fought the desire to run and simply waved his wand again, casting finite to cancel both spells. 

He tried not to wince at the way the three had shifted slightly when his wand had pointed toward them. “I won’t cast anything on you without your permission, promise.” 

Hitoshi snorted. “Well, that phrase certainly sounds familiar.” He looked down where Harry’s patronus had been moments before, then back at Harry. “So. Magic is real. That’s what the whole enclave secrecy is about.” 

“Right.” Harry frowned, then flicked his wrist to release his wand from his holster again, this time to summon some chairs. Harry sighed at the black armchairs that appeared. It’s not like he could summon them from anywhere else—someone might be using them at the Burrow, after all, but the Black family had really depressing furniture. “Why don’t we all sit? I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

Neither of them moved. Aizawa was staring at the chairs, his eyes skeptical. “These are safe to sit in?”

“Of course.” To emphasize that, Harry plopped down in the closest one. “It’s magic. There are no laws of science or anything like that; these are completely solid and real.” 

Yamada moved first, slowly sinking into the one on the far left. When he noticed the other two still weren’t moving, though, he huffed and sprang back up, herding them toward the chairs and shoving them each into one. “Sit! Harry was nice enough to make chairs, so use them! And don’t use them to sleep!” 

Harry’s lip twitched into a smile at the annoyed look Aizawa sent Yamada for the last comment. “Summoned them, actually. They’re from one of the Black family estates.” 

At that Aizawa glared at the chair, his hands tightening briefly around the armrests. “The family has multiple estates?”

“Yes.” Harry didn’t actually know how many, but there was a list from Gringotts back at Grimmauld. 

Now the three were looking at him again, and Harry was reminded of what they were supposed to be talking about it. 

Bloody hell, he didn’t want to do this. Harry scrambled to try and collect his thoughts, hyper-aware of the awkward silence stretching over the clearing.

“So…” Hitoshi perched awkwardly in the chair. “So you call your abilities magic? And you need the… wand, I suppose, to perform them?”

“Mostly. Some magic can be done without a wand—like turning myself into my animagus form, the crow. Not every witch or wizard can do that, though.” Harry wracked his brain, trying to remember the basics of magical theory. “We all have magical cores. The wands help us access those cores. Some magic doesn’t need direct access, and sometimes with training and if you have a strong core, you can accomplish spells without a wand.”

“Can you?” Yamada’s arms were thrown back over the chair, his posture completely relaxed, but his eyes were intense and focused as they peered over his glasses.

“Basic things, yes—the two main things are summoning items to me and banishing my opponents’ wands, but the spell is always stronger if you use your wand to perform it, so there are drawbacks.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, no doubt analyzing why those were the two things Harry had focused on. Harry honestly didn’t know what he’d conclude about the summoning part, but banishing wands was an obvious tactic in a battle. 

The man leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Can everyone do all the things you did earlier?”

“Ah…” Harry frowned. “Theoretically, yes. But they would have to know the spells and practice them, first. People specialize in different areas of magic and usually everyone knows all sorts of different spells.”

“And your focus is combat.” 

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Kind of had to be, with a killer after me.”

That was greeted with silence, but the three didn’t seem unnerved, just… well, they were thinking. Harry supposed it was a lot to take in.

Hitoshi spoke next. “Those people knew your name, but you never even introduced yourself. How? Why did they call you sama?”

“Oh. Well… killing the man that was attacking me made me rather well known. He…” Harry sighed. He might as well give them more details now that they knew about magic. “It’s like this: His name was Tom Riddle and he called himself Lord Voldemort. He was a Dark Lord that was trying to rule Britain and kill everyone who had non-magical ancestors, but could perform magic themselves. He hated muggles—non magical people—and would have eventually started killing everyone outside the enclaves, too.” 

“So serial killer wasn’t the full truth, then. This sounds like he was the leader of a civil war.” 

Harry winced. “Exactly.” 

Aizawa hummed in thought for a moment, then spoke again. “I’m assuming the title ‘Dark Lord’ means he was powerful?”

“Very. I was lucky most of the time, but…” Harry shuddered, remembering the connection between their wands, fighting for dominance and urging his magic outward with all of his might— “I’m stronger than most, magically speaking.”

Hitoshi’s eyes narrowed, but the other two didn’t react. 

Yamada’s fingers were drumming against his leg. “Ok, so you can control the elements, summon things, transform yourself, attack and defend yourself with some sort of energy, and transform things. There’s probably a lot more, too, since all we’ve seen is your abilities and you said everyone specializes in different areas. So what are the limits?”

Harry blinked. Merlin’s beard, they wanted theory. He needed Hermione. Um… “We can’t bring back the dead.” The three nodded while Harry thought frantically. “We can summon food and water from somewhere else, but we can’t create it.” He frowned. There was a third law, right? Hermione really should be here. Oh! Kind of an important one, really. “We can’t make someone love another person, though we can create a very intense infatuation—but that’s illegal. There are laws against a lot of dark curses, counterfeiting money, meddling with time and things like that, though technically we could do it.” 

“Dark curses?”

“Magic with intent to harm, basically? I’m not good with theory and why everything’s classified the way it is, but…” Harry frowned, trying to think of a way to explain it. Finally he just sighed and held up his hands. “These were caused by a quill with a dark curse on it. The Black family has a lot of illegal cursed objects.” 

“And someone who’s willing to use that illegal magic probably took the girl?”

Harry nodded. “There are still some of Voldemort’s supporters at large. During the war, they would kill young muggleborns for entertainment, or torture them. Our forces were too thin to be able to protect the children, so unfortunately they were easy targets. Well, they were until the heroes realized the trend against quirkless children and sent heroes to protect them, but even then that was limited since the heroes didn’t know about magic. It was enough that they weren’t as easy prey anymore, at least, and the killings became less frequent.” 

“You said they killed or tortured the children. Do you think she’s already dead, then?”

“It’s highly possible, yes.” Harry looked down at his lap. “It would depend on which one of the Death Eaters—that’s what his supporters are called—is doing this. Some preferred torture.” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration and trying not to think about their time in the Malfoy dungeon, of hearing Hermione’s screams, of the way Luna had looked—

No. 

Focus on the present. 

“Our forces are still too thin in the enclave, so the girl’s absence likely won’t be noticed by us until she turns eleven—that’s the age when we introduce ourselves to children. We invite them to a ‘quirkless boarding school’ which is really a place to train them in magic.”

“What are the chances that she’s just quirkless and doesn’t actually have your abilities?”

Harry glanced over at Hitoshi, who was still wearing that eery blank expression. “I can check on that, actually, but I doubt she’s not one of us. The vast majority of your ‘quirkless’ people being born now are really witches and wizards.” 

Yamada was frowning now. “Wait. Back up. You introduce these kids, lie to them about a boarding school, and then they never see their families again?” 

“The kids themselves usually know about magic. Usually we tell their parents, too, but sometimes it’s not necessary.” Though from what Harry understood, it was also common practice now to go back and erase the parents’ memories about magic once the child had been at Hogwarts for a year. They wanted the parents to be comfortable with sending their kids away and to understand what the accidental magic had been about, but once the parents were comfortable with everything, it was better for everyone if they thought the child was just attending a normal boarding school.

“Usually.” Aizawa’s voice was angry, but Harry didn’t understand why.

“Yeah? Sometimes parents don’t care about the details. They jump at the chance at sending their child somewhere that’s accepting of ‘quirklessness.’” 

“Tch.” Hitoshi was angry now, too. “Yeah, I can see that. Still doesn’t make it right, though.” 

Harry shrugged. “If the kids want to go back in the summer, there’s a week where they can do that. And they can always send letters and such. But, well… your world isn’t friendly to the quirkless. Most of us don’t want to come back.” 

“Us?” Aizawa was frowning again, as was Yamada. 

“You’ve mentioned before that you grew up outside the enclave. Are you speaking from experience there?”

Harry shrugged. “I grew up with my aunt and uncle outside the enclave. They aren’t the nicest people.” Harry looked away from the furrow that was growing along Yamada’s forehead. “I haven’t talked to them since I was eleven, and I’m completely fine with that. Others make the same choice, but not everyone. My friend used to visit her parents every week during the summer, but with the war she decided it was safer for them if she didn’t. She may go back and visit after we’ve caught everyone, though.” 

It’s not like the enclave cut people off from their families. It was always the person’s choice. Eventually, though… well. Their lives were just too different, even without a war going on.

Aizawa was rubbing at his temples, now, clearly frustrated by Harry’s answer. “Alright. So kids can visit their parents for one week every year, but letters are allowed all year round. How isolated is your community?”

“Only portkeys—devices for teleportation—made by government officials can allow someone in or out of it. There’s a way the letters are handled through the ministry, but I’ve never looked into it, honestly. I know I have to send them to a specific PO box, but that’s all.”

“Then how did these guys get out?” 

Harry sighed. A totally fair question. “Voldemort had allies in the government that made them for his followers.” 

“Of course.” Aizawa rubbed at his neck, about to say something else, but there was the pop of disapparition and Harry whirled around, his wand drawn and pointed, aware that the three heroes behind him were now on their feet, as well.

Yamamoto stood at the entrance of the rock walls, her hands raised, wand clearly in a sheath at her thigh. The two men slowly raised their hands, as well.

Harry lowered his wand.

“Sorry. Habits.”

“Of course.” Yamamoto smiled at him. “May I approach? We have a form granting you permission for what you requested.”

Brilliant. 

Now Harry just needed to go through this whole bloody conversation all over again, and then they could do something to help this girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the new chapter! For once Harry's plan *actually* went as planned, and now the Aizawa fam now knows about magic >:D As always, thanks so much for all of your comments and kudos! They mean a lot to me and I'm glad that so many people are enjoying this story. 
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	10. The Best Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review of the Last Chapter: Nezu tells Harry and Aizawa about a quirkless girl who has been kidnapped back in England, seemingly without leaving any clues. Harry is determined to find her, but in order to help, he has to reveal magic. He goes out into the woods with Aizawa, Yamada, and Shinsou, performing magic until the Japanese aurors arrive. After a brief confrontation, they leave to get Harry permission to tell Nezu. While they're gone, Harry talks to the three non-magical members of the House of Black about the magical world and the enclaves.

Everything after Yamamoto’s arrival had passed in a blur.

The Japanese aurors had given Harry an envelope with an internal portus spell that would send all its contents to a corresponding envelope in the British ministry. Apparently they’d already sent a letter informing Kingsley that he had it, because the envelope already held a letter from Hermione.

Harry’d decided to wait before reading that. 

A they'd returned to the train station, Harry was hit by another one of those waves of heat, but at least with the envelope he could ask Hermione about what was happening.

The travel back to UA had been tense, though. Harry could tell the other three still had questions, but didn’t want to risk talking about it in a public space, which Harry appreciated. 

And then there was Nezu.

Nezu with his victorious grin who had already figured out everything about the wizarding world, and kept giggling as he had one suspicion after another repeatedly confirmed. 

They used sticks, also known as wands, to perform a vast array of abilities?

Check.

They could do some things without that wand, though? Like teleport?

Check.

Animals from stories like dragons and fairies really did exist?

Check.

They could enter houses, move from place to place, and kill people without being detected?

Check.

They used owls to carry letters?

Check.

They had suspicious liquids also known as potions? 

Check.

Their abilities were inherited?

Check.

Many marriages were based around continuing said abilities?

Check.

They always manifested abilities before the age of eleven?

Check.

They could fight with these abilities, and Harry had done so?

Check.

There had been some sort of large conflict in their UK community recently?

Check.

Harry had played a key role in that conflict?

Check.

It was infuriating. The list went on and on, and with each new question Harry felt like he wanted to demand how the rat had figured it all out. Nezu had just sat there, though, grinning happily and not even writing anything down as he sipped his tea.

After having all his hypotheses confirmed, though, the principal had quickly gone to work—jumping over to his computer and hacking into databases. He’d said pictures would help him do even more, so that was Harry’s next task. There had to be pictures of the death eaters somewhere—maybe the daily prophet kept old editions? There had also been that picture on the wanted poster of Sirius, so Harry assumed they took pictures whenever someone went to Azkaban.

He needed to send a letter to England as fast as possible.

But now he was back in Hitoshi’s room, staring at the letter Hermione’d sent, Harry didn’t know what to say.

She was worried about him again.

Hermione didn’t think he should get involved with this—that others could solve the issue without his help. She thought he was throwing himself back into action just because he could, and kept insisting that he’d done enough and deserved a break. 

She wasn’t wrong. Harry knew that. He knew he deserved a break, too. But how could he just sit back when there was a girl in danger and he could help her?

Harry tapped the pen on the paper he’d borrowed from Hitoshi, trying to figure out what to say, but before he’d written a single word, there was a knock on the door. Harry shoved Hermione’s parchment underneath the paper. “Come in!” 

“My hands are full, could you open the door?”

Oh. Right. Hitoshi’d said he was going to get food, and they couldn’t levitate things to carry them like in the magical world. Harry quickly scrambled to get the door for him, and Hitoshi gave him a small relieved smile when it opened. 

Harry blinked. “Fish and chips?”

“Bakugou claims we all suck as hosts and he has to show us how it’s done, so he made dinner.” 

Huh. Harry accepted the plate, still confused. It was nice of the guy, but it really wasn’t necessary. He could eat whatever was available just fine. 

“You can have the desk; I’ll grab my chair from the balcony.”

“Thanks.” Everyone was being so welcoming; Harry really wasn’t sure how anyone could claim that this class wasn’t filled with good hosts. Though he had the feeling that the private dinner tonight was just as much for Hitoshi’s sake as his own—the boy had to have questions.

An awkward silence stretched over the room as they ate. Hitoshi seemed to be thinking about something, but it took him forever before he set down his plate in his lap. Purple eyes evaluated Harry. “You can do the same thing I can, can’t you?”

Harry choked on his fish. Merlin, Hitoshi went straight for the hard questions, didn’t he? “It’s illegal, one of the three unforgivables and using it can mean a death sentence, even, but yes. We can control minds.” 

Hitoshi winced. “Unforgivable, huh?”

Ah. Yeah, it made sense that he wouldn’t like that wording. Harry’s hand tightened as a wave of heat went through him again. He couldn’t focus on that right now. He had to explain this. “Our version is stronger. The only way to break through is with your own willpower, or by having the spell castor end the spell. And the victim’s willpower has to be incredibly strong to manage that. Few can, and some have killed their families without being able to break free.” 

“Shit.” Hitoshi rubbed at the back of his neck, silent for a few seconds before he spoke again. “If I got the right person, though, I could still do something that horrible. Anyone with a quirk that can kill from a distance without a physical recoil on the user. Like Pop.” 

“But you wouldn’t.” It was like Remus—he _could_ kill, but it was obvious Hitoshi never would. Every witch and wizard had the power to do atrocious things, really. 

Purple eyes stared at him, wide and confused. “You’ve only known me for a few days. How can you be so certain of that?”

Harry chewed more slowly, thinking. He was supposed to be honest, right? And this would probably help explain his reaction to Hitoshi’s quirk a bit more. “I’ve used that spell.” 

That earned a frown. “You just said that meant a death sentence, though.” 

“It was war, and I was Voldemort’s number one most wanted enemy. I already had a death sentence over my head.” Though he definitely hadn’t been thinking about it that way at the time. He’d just been so desperate he’d been willing to do anything. “It was the only way to get what I needed in order to win, so I used it.” Harry shuddered, the goblins glazed over eyes staring back at him in his mind. “I know what it’s like, and I know what _enjoying_ that power looks like. You don’t enjoy it. You treat it as a tool and you’re comfortable with it, but you don’t enjoy it. To use your quirk for something like that…” Bellatrix’s laugh rang in Harry’s ears, taunting him as he tried again and again to use crucio. “You’d have to enjoy the power your quirk gives you. You’d have to see yourself as above everyone else. But you don’t.” Harry shrugged. “That’s obvious.”

“Thank you.” Harry blinked, looking up from his food to meet Hitoshi’s earnest eyes. “No one’s really phrased it like that before, but…. Yeah. That’s definitely what it feels like.”

Harry looked away again, fiddling with his food. “I think you have to experience it to really understand.” 

“Would you ever use that spell again?”

“If I could save lives…” Harry shrugged. “Only if there was absolutely no other way. Magic like that… it can be addictive. I’d much rather stay away from it. I’ve seen what it does to people—both the victims and the users—you aren’t the same afterwards. It’s an unforgivable for a reason.” 

“And the people that have this little girl, they would use it?”

“In a heartbeat.” 

Hitoshi frowned, chewing on another chip. “You said there are three unforgivables. What are the other two? Would these guys use those, too?”

“They would.” Harry bit his lip. “I… I can’t cast those two. They…” Harry swallowed. “One kills a person immediately. There’s no counter curse or shield—if it hits you, you’re dead.” Or a horcrux, Harry supposed. Bloody hell. He really didn’t want to explain all of that. “The second one is a torture spell and causes extreme pain.” Harry’s fingers twitched, remembering the countless times he’d experienced it. From the way Hitoshi’s eyes narrowed, he didn’t miss the movement, but he also didn’t say anything. “Magic can do things that are both terrible and wonderful.”

Hitoshi gave a noncommittal hum, leaning back in the patio chair as he took another bite, then swallowed. “So what’s the most wonderful thing magic’s let you experience, then?”

Another wave of heat. Harry tried not to think about it. 

“Seeing my parents again.” He didn’t have to even think about it. Being in the middle of that clearing, facing his death with his parents at his side… The resurrection stone was truly a marvelous piece of magic. “They died when I was just a year old, but I got to meet them, thanks to magic. It’s the kind of thing so wondrous you can get addicted to it and spend more time with the dead than the living. You could waste away, wishing you could be with them… but for just that one time…” Harry swallowed, his brain retracing his steps through the forest, wondering where the stone might lie. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about that, nor would it probably be the last, but he’d made his decision. “For that one time, it was indescribable.”

Hitoshi had a small wry smile on his face. “Sorry. I keep bringing up heavy topics—I wasn’t trying to with that last one.” 

“It’s fine.” Harry gave him a tight smile. “It _was_ wonderful.” He didn’t really want to keep thinking about it, though. 

There was silence for a few moments, then Hitoshi spoke again. “Would it help you if I used my quirk less around you? It doesn’t seem to be a trigger exactly, but you also don’t have good memories associated with it.” 

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s fine. You can use it. I think it’s great that you’re trying to use it for hero work! I don’t want to distract you from training or anything.” Harry frowned. “Honestly, if…” Harry took a deep breath. He needed to say this. He didn’t know what was going on with his magic, and he couldn’t endanger these people. “If there’s ever an emergency… you can use it on me, I guess. Only in an emergency, though.” 

Hitoshi stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “If you’re sure.” 

Right. Great. That was covered, then. “And if you ever happen to meet others like me, don’t tell them your quirk.”

A purple eyebrow rose, but Hitoshi nodded. “I can see the sense of that. I don’t usually tell people anyways—my quirk works better when fewer people know about it.” 

Harry nodded. That was understandable. 

He ate another chip as silence descended in the room. 

Didn’t Hitoshi have more questions? He’d just been told that _magic was real_, and the only thing he’d seemed interested in was its relation to his own quirk. 

Whatever. Judging from his bookshelf, Hitoshi liked to read, so Harry could handle things as if this was Hermione, he supposed.

Harry ate the last few bites, then went over to his trunk. This time, even though Hitoshi was sitting right next to him, Harry didn’t bother to hide his actions as he twisted the handle in a full circle to open up the suitcase.

His schoolbooks stared back at him, scattered haphazardly around the bottom compartment. “You have questions, right? You can look through my books if you want, but don’t take them out of this room unless I’ve disguised it first, and make sure no one else sees them.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes were wide. “Thanks.” He kneeled down as Harry stood up, his hands slowly reaching into the too-deep space and picking up different titles. 

Harry winced when he realized that The Monster Book of Monsters was in there somewhere. “Don’t open the book that has a belt around it, ok? If you’re interested in that one I’ll open it for you.” 

Hitoshi nodded numbly, his eyes still glued to the trunk. “Honestly, I do have questions, but it’s one of those things where I wouldn’t even know where to start, so this is really helpful.” 

Harry shrugged. “Have fun reading, I guess.” He needed them to trust him if he was going to ever get Aizawa to come to Diagon Alley for that paperwork, and being open about the enclaves was one small step in that direction. He definitely felt like he’d managed to become closer to the man today.

Sitting back down at the desk, Harry fiddled with Hitoshi’s pencil as he stared at Hermione’s letter once more. 

She’d probably be delighted to receive a letter on notebook paper—it had been far too long since Harry had seen it. Some muggle things were just far more practical than their magical counterparts. 

Warmth spread throughout his body, and Harry dropped the pencil, startled. 

Again?! That was three times within the past hour. What was going on?!

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah.” Harry picked the pencil pack up, offering Hitoshi a strained smile. “Just… something weird’s been going on with my magic recently, but I don’t know what. I don’t think it’s anything major, but I’m going to ask in my letter just in case.” 

Hitoshi frowned in concern, setting down Magical Drafts and Potions. “That doesn’t sound like something minor.” 

Harry shrugged, looking back at the paper. “I’ve never felt this before, but it doesn’t seem to be getting worse.” Maybe more frequent? But there had been several bursts of heat in a row before, and they had subsided. “The problem is it’s also not getting any better, and I can’t figure out a pattern. Hermione will have access to more books and be able to ask around about it, though.” 

Purple eyes looked back at the books. “Yeah. Are these all the books you have with you?”

Harry groaned. Sure, there were fewer books in the trunk than there were on Hitoshi’s shelf, even, but he’d only ever bought what he needed for classes! “Those are all the standard Hogwarts textbooks for years 1-6. If I read anything else, I just got it from the library.” 

“That makes sense, I suppose….” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I almost didn’t even bring those. The Blacks have a huge family library, so I could read books from there, too.”

Hitoshi smirked at him. “But you didn’t did you?” He held up the potions textbook. “This doesn’t exactly look well-read.”

“I was eleven then!” Harry flushed. “And if I needed to look up a spell or something, I would.” He’d used it to study animagi. And there had been some helpful construction spells that he’d passed on to McGonagall. 

Hitoshi shook his head at Harry’s response. “Such a waste.” 

“Whatever.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, then turned back to the notebook paper. He sighed. It was just going to Kingsley and Hermione, probably. They knew he wasn’t good with words or anything like that. He should stoop worrying about things and just write. 

But it was weird to write without the scratching of the quill against the paper—the pencil felt entirely different from what he was used to. And he still found himself scratching out lines rather than erasing them, but oh well. 

When he finished the letter, Hitoshi was still engrossed in the potions textbook, though now he was sprawled out across his bed as he read. Harry supposed since they didn’t have classes the next day, the boy didn’t _have_ to do his homework. 

Harry stood up and stretched, then went over to his trunk. Hitoshi watched curiously as Harry closed the trunk and then opened it to a different compartment, then pulled out his toiletries from the morning. “You mind if I go take a shower and get ready for bed? I feel filthy after all the dodging in the forest.”

“Go ahead.” 

Harry was quick about it, not really wanting to spend time with anyone else. The whole area was empty, though. He supposed there were only two other guys’ rooms on this floor, so it’s not like he had to avoid a lot of people if he wanted the space to himself. 

When he went back to the room, though, he ran into Midoriya in the hallway. The green haired boy was just standing there, staring at the door next to Hitoshi’s.

“Midoriya-kun? Are you ok?”

The boy jumped, his face turning bright red as he scratched at his cheek. “Yeah! Um…” He looked back at the door. “Your quirk wouldn’t be related to flowers or anything, would it Potter-kun?”

“Flowers? No.” Harry looked between the boy and the closed door, confused. “Why?”

“Just…” the boy fidgeted. “I was watering Todo-kun’s plant before I left because he never remembers to water it and I was thinking about how Todo-kun’s really stressed right now, but the flower always looks so pretty when it blooms, so that might help calm him down, and then it just did? But it’s not even the right time of year…” He laughed nervously. “Sorry. I tend to ramble a lot and I must sound crazy. It’s just a plant. I’m sure I’m mistaken about it’s blooming cycle or something.” Midoriya let out a sigh and pouted. “I’d ask Todo-kun, but I don’t think he knows, either. Maybe he’s been keeping his room warmer and the flower was confused?” He gave Harry a tired smile, shrugging as he started walking toward the elevators. “It’s late, so we should really get to sleep. See you tomorrow, Potter-kun!” 

Harry blinked, watching the other boy leave. The flower had bloomed out of season? That was odd, but Harry doubted it warranted staring at the other boy’s door after he left. Maybe there was something going on with them? The two seemed close. 

Harry shrugged and headed back to Hitoshi’s room, completely unsurprised to find the other boy still nose-deep in a book. At some point he’d gotten up, though, because the overhead light was off and he was reading with the book shoved up under the purple glow of the lava lamp next to his bed. Hitoshi glanced up as Harry entered. “Will you be able to sleep ok like this?”

“Yeah.” In the dorms he would’ve been able to pull curtains shut, but Harry supposed he could make some somehow if he really needed them…. Maybe? He didn’t really know many spells that dealt with cloth….

Whatever. He’d be fine for the night. Harry tucked everything back into the trunk, then grabbed some dreamless sleep. Thank Merlin he could take this and didn’t have to hide it from the other boy now. 

“What _is_ that?” 

Harry grimaced, finishing off the bottle before he responded. Hitoshi’s face looked just as disgusted as his voice had sounded. “Dreamless Sleep. It’ll keep me from having nightmares.” And keep him from screaming and waking everyone else up, which was far more important.

The other boy looked significantly more interested, but instead of asking questions he flipped around in the potions book he was reading. Whatever. Harry put the empty vial back in his trunk and switched the compartments back so that the section with books was open for Hitoshi. At the rate he was going, he’d probably finish the book before too long.

His whole body felt tired and Harry yawned as the potion took effect. Moving as quickly as his sluggish brain would allow, Harry curled up on the futon, barely managing to pull the blankets over him before he fell asleep.

The next morning Harry learned that apparently weekends meant everyone was gone on internships, so Harry had the entire dorm to himself, pretty much. The only other person there was Hitoshi, and that was just because Aizawa had told him it was his job to watch Harry for the weekend. He felt bad about depriving the boy of the chance to actually do his internship, but Hitoshi had just shrugged and said his muscles were sore from everything Aizawa’d had him do the weekend before, and he could use the break.

Harry honestly couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not, but he decided to accept it either way.

An empty dorm meant no Bakugou meals, though, and the cafeteria was closed. Harry had taken one look at the microwave meal Hitoshi had handed him and decided to cook them lunch with whatever _actual_ food was around in the kitchen—baked potatoes, a salad, and some grilled chicken, which was hardly elaborate, but Hitoshi seemed to appreciate it. 

With nothing else to do, Harry then spent the rest of the afternoon baking various things for his hosts while Hitoshi sprawled on the couch and read more of Harry’s textbooks, albeit with disguised covers in case someone came back early. 

Harry was bored to death, but with no news back from Hermione, he wasn’t sure what else to do. The occasional waves of heat spreading throughout his body really didn’t help, either. A letter finally arrived Saturday evening, but all it said was that the girl was definitely a witch, Hermione would look into the issue with his magic, and she’d send the pictures tomorrow. And of course she added a warning for him to be careful. 

Harry sighed. He was always careful, danger just had a way of finding him regardless of that.

When the pictures came, though, he was definitely thankful for the excuse to leave the dorms. There were ten known death eaters still at large, which Harry thought was far too many, but Nezu seemed delighted that it was so few. 

Harry’d tried to watch as the principal uploaded the images, but the rodent promptly shooed him away, fussing about the possibility that Harry might mess up his computer. Which was fair, but still annoying. He could be around electronics a little bit as long as he didn’t use magic. He knew how to control himself now. 

But then Yamada had thrown an arm around Harry’s shoulders, and the next thing he knew he was sitting in the back of a small cafe, surrounded by the Aizawa family. 

The cafe was… quiet and normal looking? There were a lot of cat decorations, but they weren’t tacky like the ones at Mrs. Figg’s had been. Or horrifying like the one's in Umbridge's office. Harry was just relieved that there was only one person with red eyes in the room.

Of course, the three of them seemed content to ignore the menus and make small talk, leaving Harry confused as to what on earth was going on and why they’d suddenly left the school. “Is there a reason we’re having dinner here and not at UA?”

Hitoshi blinked. “Oh. Sorry. We always have dinner here Sunday nights.” 

Harry suddenly felt awkward. “Always? So this is like…. A family thing?”

And now they were all staring at him. Great.

It’s just… he’d never done the whole ‘go out and eat with your family’ thing. The Dursleys would never have wanted him to be seen in public and the Weasleys always ate at home, so… he just wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. He’d only ever really gone out to eat a handful of times, even, and usually that was at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Yup!” Yamada made finger guns, and some of the tension eased a little. “We eat out as a family every Sunday night! Eri-chan’s usually with us, but she’s thrilled to have a girls weekend with Midnight, so no worries there!” 

Oh. Well that was good, at least. Harry still felt guilty, though. This was the girl’s actual family and all because she had red eyes—

“Don’t freak out, kid. She’s been begging us to have girls time and practically broke my eardrums squealing when we told her she could spend the weekend with Midnight.”

Hitoshi sighed dramatically. “She’s in a phase where all girls are better than boys—except for Midori-kun, since she still has a crush on him. As her big brother, I’m hurt.” 

Harry stared at them all. This was…normal, then? “I’ve never had a sister, so I wouldn’t know. Well, Hermione’s like my sister, but she’s my age, so it’s different, I guess.”

“Hermione? That’s who you’re corresponding with in your government, right?”

Oh. Of course Aizawa remembered her name from that. “Yeah. She’s working as Kingsley’s—our minister’s assistant at the moment.”

“She’s the minister’s assistant ‘at the moment.’” Hitoshi stared at him incredulously.

“The ministry is in chaos right now, so she’s helping with all that. She doesn’t want to do it permanently, but Kingsley asked her for help, and she couldn’t just turn him down.”

“Your minister asked for her help personally?” Yamada was frowning, now, clearly confused. “I thought you said she was your age?”

“Well yeah, she is. But we all fought together, so…” Harry shrugged. “You trust each other a lot after that. She’s wicked smart, well organized, and everyone’s scared of her, so of course she’d be helpful getting everything in working order.”

Hitoshi snorted. “Those seem like they would be helpful traits, yeah.” 

Harry shrugged again, then actually opened up the menu. He blinked. “The dishes are all cat themed?” He’d just thought the decor was weird. 

They were all staring at him again. Had he missed something?

“It’s a cat cafe.” Aizawa’s voice was deadpan, which didn’t help Harry at all.

“And that’s why everything is cat themed?”

Hitoshi shook his head. “What a sad life you’ve lived. You’ve never come to a cat cafe before?”

“I take it there’s more to it than just a theme, then.” All three men nodded.

Yamada pointed toward a door that Harry had assumed led to more tables. “Usually these places only have drinks and snacks and let you have those while you play with the cats, but this place is a bit nicer. So after we eat, we go play with the cats! They’re all precious and up for adoption.”

Huh. “I’ve only ever been around one cat, really. Hermione’s.” He didn’t think McGonagall counted. Or Mrs. Figg's cats. He didn't remember them well enough. 

“Now that’s just a tragedy, right there.” Yamada was shaking his head in mock sadness, but the other two seemed horrified. At least he thought Aizawa looked horrified? It was hard to tell.

Harry wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, so he looked back at the menu. “What do you all suggest to eat, then?”

“Pancakes.” 

Harry stared at Hitoshi. “But it’s dinner.” 

“Breakfast for dinner is totally a thing.” Hitoshi looked completely serious. Harry turned to the two adults, but both of them were nodding.

“I order pancakes as well.” Huh. Harry did not expect that from Aizawa.

Yamada winked. “Sometimes I get the pancakes with them, but I also like their club sandwich!” 

“Thanks.” Harry wasn’t really in a pancake mood. “I guess I’ll get that, then.” He didn’t really care what he had, honestly, but breakfast for dinner just felt weird. 

After they’d ordered, silence descended again, and Harry fidgeted awkwardly. Before the silence stretched too long, though, Yamada spoke up. “Soooo. I take it you don’t go out to eat a lot? Do you lot not have restaurants?”

Oh. They thought that was why. “I mean, there are pubs and some restaurants, but most people eat at home.” It wasn’t too far from the truth. House elf cooking was hard to beat, after all. And Mrs. Weasley’s food was great, too. “When I was growing up outside the enclave we ate at home too, though. I did most of the cooking there.”

“Ah.” Hitoshi nodded. “I was wondering how you knew your way around appliances so well if your… hometown doesn’t really use electronics. Weren’t you really young, though?”

Harry froze. Was this one of those Dursleys things? All the Weasleys had helped with cooking, too, so he’d never really thought about it. Obviously he shouldn’t have been doing _all_ the cooking, but he’d only said ‘most’… “It was one of my chores for a while.” 

There. That kept it vague, right? Merlin, Aizawa’s eyes were narrowing again. He wasn’t saying anything, though, and Hitoshi was just nodding like that was normal, so maybe it wasn’t that odd? 

“So what’s life like, then, where you live? Is it that different from here?” Hitoshi took a sip from his drink. “The books you have don’t really talk about that.” 

“Books?”

“I’m reading his old textbooks.” Hitoshi grinned at Aizawa, who just sighed.

“Don’t get behind in your own schoolwork.”

“Of course, Dad.” Hitoshi rolled his eyes, then turned back toward Harry, one eyebrow raised, “So?”

Right. How to explain the wizarding world without actually talking about magic while in a public place? “Um… not that different? Just… well. I guess you could say everything’s kind of stuck in the middle ages in appearances. We never saw the use in electronics, so we never really moved past that architecture or anything. Most stereotypes about us are pretty accurate. Besides like, the green skin and warts, I guess.” 

Yamada grinned. “So you wear a pointy hat?”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “Everyone has one, yeah, but we don’t really wear it that much. I haven’t touched mine since I got it when I was eleven, so I don’t even have one that fits anymore.” 

Now Yamada was outright laughing, and Hitoshi was snickering. “_Please_ wear an outfit like that to the Halloween party. Just say it’s a costume you got this weekend or something.”

Halloween party? Halloween was this soon? Harry hadn’t been paying attention to the calendar, but surely he would’ve noticed—

“I mean, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“No.” Harry shook his head, snapping himself out of it. He’d think about that later. “That sounds fun, actually. I haven’t worn that stuff in a while, but I at least have some school robes that fit.”

“School robes?”

“Our uniforms are robes.” 

“Weird.” 

Harry shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. Quills are far more annoying. It’s really nice to be able to write with a pencil or pen again.”

“Like a feather quill?” Harry nodded as Aizawa frowned. “My mother had one of those. It was always up on a shelf and she never used it, but I asked her about it once and she said she kept it around for old memories.” 

Oh. “The Blacks would have used them. They really are just like pens for us—you can find them laying around everywhere. So if she’d taken one, they never would have noticed. Not unless it was one with special um… modifications that someone really liked or something like that.”

“Modifications?” 

Ah. Harry held up his hands again and dropped his voice to talk more quietly. “Like writing with blood instead of ink, basically. They’re not all illegal modifications, though. Sometimes they were just useful—like being made to self-ink or never need to have the tip sharpened or run dry.” 

“Writing with blood.” 

“Like I said, illegal. Most things involving blood are.” 

“Illegal doesn’t mean people don’t do it.” 

“True.” 

Yamada let out a big sigh. “Do you even have that thing still, Sho?”

He shook his head. “I got rid of it a long time ago.”

Harry winced. “Well, if it had any modifications the government has probably found it by now—if anyone’s used it, that is. Though if it’s just something harmless like it doesn’t need to be sharpened, then no one may have noticed.”

“So your government tracks down objects that make their way outside where you live?”

Harry nodded absently. “Yeah. It’s not as big of an issue ever since we isolated ourselves more, but it still happens—someone finds an old mirror in their attic or something like that. My friend’s Dad’s in charge of that department back home, but he only has one person working under him, so ‘department’ is a bit much, really. It’s only a two man team only so that they never leave the enclave alone.” 

“Is that your country’s policy?”

“If it’s government business, yes.” Harry shrugged, “People can do what they want on personal business, though.” 

Before the others could respond, the waitress arrived with their food. Harry stared. The pancakes were shaped like cat heads? Is that why they had been excited about them? “I take it you two really like cats.” 

Hitoshi grinned at him. “What gave it away?”

Harry stared at him incredulously, then looked down at the pancake. “I don’t think anyone would order that every week if they didn’t.” 

Hitoshi just laughed at that, already cutting off a slice of the pancake. Well apparently he had no problem stabbing the cat head. Maybe it was because he saw it every week?

Even the toothpicks in Harry’s sandwich had little cat heads on them, which made Harry shake his head. Themed cafes were odd. He wasn’t even sure what the wizarding world equivalent to this would be—it’s not like owls liked playing with you. They did have cats? Harry wasn’t sure if they were like normal cats, though. He’d only ever spent time around Crookshanks, who definitely wasn’t.

“So did you have a pet growing up or anything?” Harry blinked as Yamada began to practically inhale his sandwich.

Then he realized what Yamada had said, and winced. “I had an owl. But she… well, she died during everything.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” Harry looked over to see that Hitoshi actually did look sorry, which was weird. A lot of witches and wizards didn’t even really care about their owls.

“She saved my life that night, really. Distracted someone for me and… well. Yeah.” He took a bite of his food, even though his appetite had left. It was never good to waste. “Sorry for dampening the mood.” 

“No problem, my man! Losing a pet’s always hard. We have three cats, and—” 

“Three?!” That wasn’t nearly as bad as Mrs. Figg, but _still_. He hadn’t expected it.

Hitoshi nodded. “Sprinkles, Beyonce, and Death to Rodents. We call her Death for short.” 

Harry stared at him. And he thought wizards used weird names. “You named a cat Death?”

“Death to Rodents. The full name is important.” How could Hitoshi look completely serious while saying this? Harry turned to the two adults, but they weren’t any help. He sighed. “And what does Beyonce even mean?”

Yamada let out a scandalized gasp. “How could you not know the queen?!”

“Japan has a queen?”

Hitoshi burst out laughing. “She’s a really popular singer from America.”

Oh. “And you named your cat after her?”

“Correction: Zashi named the cat after her.” Aizawa shrugged. “It was his turn to pick the name.”

His turn? “Then who named Death to Rodents?”

“I did.” Hitoshi’s grin was far too proud of that.

“And Sprinkles?”

“Eri-chan. The little guy is stuck with it.” Hitoshi gave a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. 

“Shouta’s not allowed to name the cats because he just picks the first thing he sees as the poor cat’s name.” Harry blinked as Yamada stole some of the pancake off of Aizawa’s plate. 

“Wait. So you have three cats at home, but you still come here to play with more cats?”

Aizawa nodded. The other two didn’t seem to find anything odd about this, either. Harry sighed. 

Apparently he was going to have to learn to like cats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry it's taken so long, it took me a while to get everything where I liked it. Thanks so much for all the comments and kudos!!!! I'm glad so many people are enjoying the story so far. 
> 
> If you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	11. Of Mice and Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Harry told Nezu about magic and had a long conversation with Hitoshi about magic and the similarities between his quirk and the imperius curse. Hitoshi read more about magic and the Aizawa fam took Harry with them to a cat cafe.

Life in the UA dorms was a lot different from life at Grimmauld Place, but Harry was slowly adjusting. In some ways it wasn’t too different from the Gryffindor tower, but with only one other person sharing the same room. The bathroom situation was basically the same, though—five boys all trying to use the same sinks and showers, which led to inevitable chaos and occasionally having to wait your turn. At least UA had more options, so waiting was less frequent. And it should only be four other boys, but Midoriya spent so much time on their floor it felt more like he lived there than on floor three. 

Harry sighed when he entered the bath area that evening and saw the green-haired boy’s clothes sitting in a basket in the front room. Todoroki’s things were there, too, and he could hear them talking softly on the other side of the wall. There wasn’t any water running, so Harry supposed they were taking advantage of the Friday evening to have a bath. Harry set his clothes in the bin next to Midoriya’s, tucking his wand into his pants before grabbing what he would need for the shower.

When he turned the corner, Midoriya gave him a cheerful smile and invited him to join them, but Harry awkwardly declined the invitation and instead made a beeline to the closest shower. 

This was the first time he’d seen any of the boys actually using the bath. Relaxing in some hot water did sound pleasant, honestly, but Harry didn’t want to deal with questions about his scars. No one outside Aizawa and his family had asked him anything, but Harry didn’t want to risk it.

By the time he finished his shower, the other boys were now in the front room, fully dressed and drying off their hair. Harry nodded to them, heading straight to his own clothes.

He froze.

His wand was sitting on top of the pile. 

“Sorry, Potter-kun! When I got my things from the bin, I slipped and accidentally knocked yours over. I put everything back, though, and nothing got wet! But you might want to leave the spark-stick in Shinsou-kun’s room next time. It can’t be good to have that around this much water.” 

Cautiously, Harry picked up his wand and examined it, then sighed in relief. The wood didn’t look dented or anything. 

Wait. 

“Spark-stick?”

“Yeah.” Midoriya blinked, confused. “I don’t know what it is, but it sparked when I picked it up.” 

Bloody hell. What in Merlin’s name…? Harry looked down at his wand, then back at Midoriya. 

“You have a quirk though.” 

Panic flashed across Midoriya’s eyes, so fast Harry almost wondered if it had happened, and then he was laughing nervously. “Yes? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” Harry shook his head, then hurried to tug his shirt over his head. “I’ll keep it in a dry spot next time; thanks for picking it up for me.” 

“You’re welcome!” Midoriya’s cheerful smile was back. “Umm, if you don’t mind me asking, what is it exactly? I’ve never seen something like it before.”

Bloody hell. What should he even say to that? “A stick. It’s sentimental.”

They both stared at him like he was insane.

“But it made sparks?”

“It does that sometimes.” Harry quickly tugged on his pants and shoved the wand into his pocket. 

Todoroki blinked. “Sticks don’t make sparks.” 

Harry bit his lip, turning to grab his toiletries so they wouldn’t see his face. What did he even say to that?! “This one’s different. Have a good night!” 

Harry fled. 

He could feel both of them staring at his back as he left.

Merlin’s beard! What had just happened? That was bad. Hopefully they’d forget everything or think he was weird or something like that. Or maybe he could pass it off as a quirk thing?

Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. More importantly, why did his wand spark when Midoriya touched it?

Why did he panic when Harry asked if he was quirkless?

Was he actually quirkless?

Did that mean Midoriya had magic?

But Harry had seen his quirk! He didn’t really understand how it worked, but he’d seen it loads of times! 

So how….

“What’s up?”

Oh. He was back in Hitoshi’s room. The other boy was sitting on his bed, one eyebrow raised as he stared at him from over Harry’s old transfiguration textbook.

Harry shut the door behind him, then walked over to put his toiletries back in his trunk. Where in Merlin’s name he should even start? “Midoriya has a quirk, right?”

“Yes.” Now Hitoshi was looking at him like he was an idiot. 

Harry groaned, flopping down onto the futon. “My wand apparently fell on the floor while I was in the shower and let out sparks when Midoriya picked it up. Midoriya and Todoroki were really confused about it and I um, didn’t have the best answers for them. I don’t understand, though! It shouldn’t do that unless Midoriya has magic, but he obviously has a quirk.” 

“Wait. Back up.” Hitoshi set down the textbook. “They saw your wand?”

Harry nodded. 

“But you didn’t tell them it was a wand.”

“Of course not!” He would never be that stupid. 

“What did you tell them, then?”

“That it was sentimental and it just sparked sometimes.” 

Harry groaned as Hitoshi started snickering. “Right, right.” The boy grinned. “Totally realistic.” 

“Shut up. I panicked, ok?”

The boy shook his head. “Why did you even take it to the bathroom?”

“I always have my wand! I can’t just leave it somewhere.” 

“Uh huh. How’s that working for you?”

Harry glared at him.

Hitoshi rolled his eyes, still grinning. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you. So you’re freaking out not because they saw your wand and you gave the worst excuse ever, but because it sparked when Midoriya picked it up?”

“Exactly!” He doubted the other two boys would really press him about whatever the wand was, or that they’d think it was an actual magic wand and Harry was a wizard. Not unless he gave them other reasons to think that. 

“Ok…” Hitoshi still sounded amused. “Well, does the sparking have to mean that Midoriya has magic? Could it be something else?”

“I don’t know!” Harry buried his head in his pillow. He didn’t know what to think. But why else would his wand spark??

“Huh.” The other boy paused, thinking. “Midoriya was a really late bloomer, if that helps.”

Harry rolled over and looked at Hitoshi, confused. “What do you mean?”

“His quirk didn’t manifest until right before high school.” 

What? “Don’t those usually show up when you’re around four or something?” Harry hadn’t been in this world for a while, but he could still remember waiting for his own quirk, then slowly becoming more and more depressed as it didn’t come and people assumed he was quirkless.

“Yeah.” 

_Could_ a late manifestation have something to do with magic? But if Midoriya had magic, why hadn’t the enclave contacted him? He should have been contacted before middle school, which meant he should have been in the enclave when his quirk manifested. Maybe they had, but his magic was weak enough that he didn’t need training? But if the enclaves had contacted him at some point, then Midoriya would have known what Harry’s wand was, when he clearly didn’t!

Harry groaned again.

None of this made any sense.

“Ok, say Midoriya has magic but doesn’t know about it. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know! If he has magic, it could go out of control if he’s not trained, which is obviously bad. That’s why the enclave should have contacted him. But they obviously didn’t, so—”

“He couldn’t have just denied their invitation or whatever? Midoriya’s always been obsessed with heroes and he loves his mom a lot. I can’t see him leaving her, no matter the reason.”

Harry blinked. “That doesn’t happen. Why would they want to stay here where they’re quirkless when they could go to a different school and learn magic? Besides, the enclaves wouldn’t accept that—untrained magic is dangerous for that person and everyone around them.”

Hitoshi winced. “I guess that makes sense. He wouldn’t stay if it would put his mom in danger.” 

Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Has anything weird ever happened around Midoriya?”

“Ummm…” Hitoshi rubbed at the back of his neck. “Maybe?”

“What do you mean by maybe?”

“Depends on what you mean by weird. Nothing that seems like your magic or anything, though. Midoriya’s quirk is complicated and I don’t really understand it, but he’s always said everything’s related to his quirk, and it acts in predictable patterns that he can control, which doesn’t seem to be the case with your ‘accidental magic’, right?”

“Right.” Harry rolled over, groaning into his pillow. “I give up. Unless Midoriya has accidental magic, it shouldn’t be dangerous. I’ll ask Hermione what she knows, though.” He went over to the desk, pulling out a pen and piece of paper and scribbling a quick note to slip into the envelope. 

“Maybe we can go up to UA tomorrow and ask Principal Nezu if he knows anything.” 

Harry looked back at Hitoshi, “Nezu?” The other boy shrugged.

“Nezu shouldn’t know half the things he does, so it couldn’t hurt to ask.” 

“That’s true.” Harry sighed. “I guess I’ll try to sleep for now, then.”

“Have fun.” Hitoshi watched Harry tuck the envelope back in the drawer, then opened the book once again. 

Harry looked toward his trunk with a frown. He’d had dreamless sleep every night since he’d gotten here, which really wasn’t advisable, plus he was running low. He’d have to try a silencing ward on the futon tonight. He didn’t want Hitoshi to know he was doing that, though… But Harry should be able to do that wordlessly; he’d certainly made them often enough while on the run. 

Harry cast the spell and made sure his wand was secure in his arm holster, hopeful that it had worked, then collapsed back onto the futon and pulled the blanket up over his head.

It took far too long to fall asleep, his mind running through various scenarios of what excuse he could have given Midoriya or why his wand might have reacted that way. Eventually, though, Harry managed to drift off.

Well, he managed until Hitoshi’s phone started ringing. 

Harry rolled over, trying to ignore what sounded like Mic singing off-key. Finally he gave up, throwing a pillow at Hitoshi who was somehow still asleep even with the noise blaring right next to his ear. 

The other boy groaned, his hand moving blindly around the nightstand until finally he grabbed his phone, glancing at the lit up screen for a second before holding it up to his ear. “Hello? It’s 4 am.” The boy’s voice was groggy, yet still somehow managed to convey the tone of a death threat. 

He bolted upright. “Principal Nezu?!”

Harry blinked. Why would—

“You found one already?!”

Found one? A Death Eater? Bloody hell! 

Hitoshi made a writing motion, so Harry scrambled to get him a paper and pencil, and then Hitoshi was writing down an address. After confirming that he had it right, Hitoshi hung up and shoved the paper into Harry’s hands. “Send that to your friend—one of those Death Eater guys—Jugson? He’s at that park right now.” 

Harry tripped over the futon in his rush to reach the desk, then yanked open the drawer where the portkey envelope was hidden. There was another paper in it already, so he pulled that out and quickly slid his note inside facedown—that should let Hermione know it was an emergency.

But now all they could do was wait, and Harry was wide-awake. There was no way he could go back to sleep. 

Hitoshi groaned behind him. “I hate time zones. What time is it in England, even?” 

Harry shrugged, collapsing into the chair and setting the envelope on the desk beside him as he picked up Hermione’s earlier message that he’d tossed on the floor. “Sometime in the evening, but not too late, I don’t think.” Harry frowned. “Hermione says that all current research believes it’s impossible to have both a quirk and magic, but that quirks are constantly evolving and the research available is very limited. And that she’s still looking into my other problem, but to let her know if it becomes more serious.” 

Harry sighed. That info wasn’t helpful at all—she’d basically said she didn’t think it was possible, but who knows. And how should Harry know if whatever was happening with his magic was serious or not? That’s why he’d sent her the letter!

The envelope turned green. 

Harry rushed to open it, but all it contained was a confirmation that Hermione had sent aurors to check it out. “They’ve sent out a team.”

“That’s good, at least.”

“Yeah.” Harry set it back down again, trying to push his other issues out of his mind and focus on the current plan. How long would it take for the team to report back? At least half an hour, right? His fingers drummed against his leg as he stared at the envelope.

Jugson. 

Harry didn’t remember too much about him. He’d been one of the Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries, so he had to be fairly high up in their chain of command, right? Or he could’ve just been close to Malfoy or something. 

Harry had figured looking into muggle security footage would work—it’s not like Death Eaters were thinking about avoiding cameras—but this was too fast. Too easy. 

Was it a trap?

But the Death Eaters wouldn’t think of using a muggle device for a trap. That couldn’t be it. It was probably just a pureblood who didn’t know about muggle technology.

Even if Jugson didn’t have the girl, though, he still might know something. If the Aurors used veritaserum, they could hopefully learn more leads about the other death eaters. 

Harry wanted to be back in England. 

He wanted to be tracking down this guy himself. 

He was useless here. 

He hated waiting. Hated wondering who they were going to kill while he was cooped up, unable to do anything. Just sitting around and waiting for news of another death.

If he could just be back in combat again, he could actually do some good—

“You ok?”

Huh?

Hitoshi was staring at him. Purple eyes glanced downward and Harry followed them, only then noticing that his hands were clenched tight around his pants. He forced himself to release the soft fabric. “Fine.”

Hitoshi snorted, but didn’t call him on it. 

He just needed to _do something_—Wait. “If Nezu-san is awake, we could ask him about Midoriya!” 

Hitoshi frowned. “What do you want me to do, text him ‘oh, by the way, Harry’s wand reacted to Midori-kun and we think he has magic. Do you think that’s even possible?’”

“Uh…” Harry blinked, not really sure why that would be an issue. “Yes?”

Hitoshi groaned. “Fine. Whatever.” He hit a button his phone and held it out to Harry, the sound of ringing dimly coming from its speaker. “I’m not texting that. We don’t need a written record of this for someone to see later.” 

Oh. Right. “Good idea.” 

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “Take the phone, idiot. You’re the one that’s knows more about this.” 

Sure, that was true, but… Harry pushed the phone away. “I could destroy—” 

“UGH.” Hitoshi flopped back on his bed and held the phone up to his ear, muttering about magic being stupid and being too tired for this shit. 

Nezu must have answered at that point, because Hitoshi sat back up again to talk. “Sorry to disturb you, Principal Nezu. Harry and I have a question about quirks and magic, if you have the time?”

Hitoshi sighed. “Yes, we know we should be going back to sleep, but the information you sent woke us up and well, this might be important?” Hitoshi rubbed at the back of his neck. “We were going to come ask you about it in the morning, anyways.” 

There was a pause as Hitoshi listened to something, then continued, “Midoriya touched Harry’s wand and the wand reacted to him, but Harry says that shouldn’t happen unless Midoriya has magic. But Midoriya has a quirk, so that can’t be what’s going on, right?”

Hitoshi went silent, his brows furrowing as Nezu talked. 

Harry fidgeted in the chair. 

Hitoshi rubbed at his forehead.

Harry curled up into a ball, wondering why in Merlin’s name this was taking so long to answer. Did that mean Nezu thought Midoriya had magic, after all?

Finally, Hitoshi thanked the principal and hung up, the lines of confusion never leaving his face. “So… first off he says this is all just him theorizing and he’ll look into it further, but that since Dad’s quirk doesn’t work you, that means that the quirk factor and whatever gives you magic have to be different parts of DNA. It could be that a magical person has never had a quirk because your kind is so isolated, but Principal Nezu doesn’t think that’s the case since quirks themselves are a mutation caused by an unknown external factor and that if he can have a quirk as an animal, it doesn’t make sense that there’s never been a human with magic who has had a quirk.”

Harry’s head hurt. He was pretty sure he understood all that so far, though. “So if animals can have quirks, every human should be able to have a quirk, magical or not.”

“Yeah.” Hitoshi ran a hand through his hair. “But that hasn’t happened, right? So he thinks something about quirks and magic has to be incompatible—if a person has the capability of having both, somehow one will become more dominant.” 

“But then how does Midoriya have magic and a quirk?”

Hitoshi shrugged. “He said it’s impossible to know without more information, but that maybe the wand reacted because Midoriya had the potential for magic, but his quirk somehow won the dominance battle?”

That was as good as any theory, Harry supposed. But that felt like it was too simple.

“Whatever’s going on, it should be ok, right? You said before that as long as he’s not having accidental magic it’s not dangerous.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” It should be fine. 

Theoretically. 

But Harry wasn’t the best at theory.

Ugh, Harry didn’t want to think about it any more, but the envelope still wasn’t registering any new information. 

Harry stood up, pushing the purple curtains to the side and going out to the balcony. “I need some fresh air, let me know if the envelope changes.”

He couldn’t sit still right now. 

“Sure.” 

Harry slid the door shut behind him, then stared out over the tree tops. In the distance, several buildings were lit up, lights glowing under the hazy morning sun. 

Harry’s skin itched to fly out among the trees, to skim through leaves and dart around branches and trunks. 

Flying always cleared his mind. 

He didn’t want to go too far from the envelope, though. Harry wanted to be there when they heard news. 

Yet the forest here looked so peaceful.

The Forbidden Forest had always felt sort of foreboding because of all the dark magical plants and knowing that it was filled with acromantulas and centaurs and such… 

When he thought about it, forests didn’t really hold a lot of fond memories for Harry. The ones they’d camped in had been a little better, he supposed, but they were also tainted by memories of the horcruxes.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and hugging his arms around him. A t-shirt really wasn’t enough to ward off the morning chill. Reluctantly, Harry wandered back inside. If anything, he was more awake than before. 

Harry glanced back at the envelope, but it was still plain. 

Hitoshi looked up from his book as Harry slid the door shut and flipped the lock. “These Death Eaters, are they good fighters?”

Harry shrugged, flopping down onto his futon. “Depends. The best fighters are all in jail, but there’s still a couple that were high up in the ranks that we haven’t caught.”

“Could we hold our own against them?”

“Probably?” Harry frowned. “No wizard is good at hand to hand combat, so if you can get close, you’ll win hands down. But you’d have to dodge all their attacks in order to do that… it would depend on how fast you are and how fast they can cast spells.”

Hitoshi hummed under his breath a bit. “Can any that are in hiding do nonverbal attacks?”

“Yeah.” 

Hitoshi cursed. 

“It’s not like you’ll be facing them. We’re staying here and the aurors are catching them in England.” 

“Sure, but—” 

The envelope turned green. Harry scrambled to pull out the new message. 

His shoulders sagged. They’d gotten Jugson, but so far it didn’t look like he knew anything about the girl or other death eaters. They had yet to get approval for veritaserum, though, so there was still a chance. 

Bloody hell. 

“Well?”

“It doesn’t look like he knows anything, but at least it’s one less of them out there.” 

“Ah.” Hitoshi typed something on his phone, then set it aside. “I let the principal know. Do you want to try to sleep now?”

Harry shook his head. Unless he took a potion, there was no way he’d be able to sleep. “You?” 

“Not particularly.” 

And so they didn’t. 

Instead, they spent the early morning talking about various topics—most of which involved Harry explaining the magical world and Hitoshi teasing him about his ignorance of muggle things. At least one hour involved discussing Aizawa, Yamada, and Eri along with what it was like to live with them.

It was… weird. 

Harry had stayed up late talking forever with Ron and Hermione before, and even sometimes in the dorms, but it didn’t happen often, and they didn’t really ever talk about _family_ things.

He’d never really had family that he wanted to talk about. Well, besides Sirius. But then Sirius was gone, and… well, Harry didn’t want to think about that. 

And Harry’d just met Hitoshi, really, but he also already felt comfortable around the other boy. 

It was nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry updates are taking so long, irl stress is overwhelming rn. As always, thank y'all so much for all the kudos and comments!!! They always make me smile <3
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	12. Often Go Awry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Midoriya saw Harry's wand and it let off sparks when Midoriya picked it up, but Harry offered rushed answers and fled. Security cameras helped arrest Jugson, but he didn't know anything about the captured girl. Hitoshi asks Nezu about the wand's reaction to Midoriya, and Nezu offers a possible theory: Midoriya had the potential for magic, but his quirk won out in the end and the two were not compatible.

“HELP!” 

Harry bolted upright, flicking his wrist to release his wand, then panicking when nothing—

“Shin!” 

What?

“Kaminari Denki.” Hitoshi’s voice was low and angry. “It’s seven o’clock in the fucking morning. On. A. _Saturday_.” 

Harry blinked, confused. Right. He was in Hitoshi’s room. He was in Hitoshi’s room and the boy sounded like he was about to murder his boyfriend, who was standing in the doorway, covered in toilet paper. 

Wait. Why was Kaminari covered in toilet paper?

Harry burst out laughing. 

The two turned to stare at him, startled. Kaminari gave him a sheepish grin, “Um… a little help here, man?”

“How in Merlin’s name did you get covered in toilet paper? You look like a botched attempt at a mummy.” 

Kaminari laughed. “That’s exactly what happened!” He picked at some of the loose ends, unravelling them a bit and then sighing when they became tangled. “I was helping Sero with a mummy outfit for tonight’s party, but Sero’s tape kind of, ummm… made it impossible to get the toilet paper off me, which is a problem, but then Mina said she’d dissolve it, but her acid kind of hurts, you know? And I really want it off but they were making fun of me and—”

“You came in here. At _seven a.m. on a Saturday_ to ask me to get toilet paper off of you?”

Kaminari scratched his cheek sheepishly, only now realizing how annoyed Hitoshi was. “Well we need everyone’s help with the decorations today anyway so I figured you would have to get up soon and—”

“Leave.” 

Kaminari fled, the door slamming shut behind him.

Hitoshi groaned, collapsing on his bed. “Blonde idiots can never let me sleep in.” 

“What party was he talking about?”

“Joint birthday party for Tokoyami and Halloween party.” 

Harry froze. “It’s Halloween?”

“Tomorrow, yeah. We talked about you wearing your school uniform and stuff as a costume, remember?”

“Right.” They had, but… Bloody hell, he hadn’t realized it was so close. “I guess I’ll go ahead and take a shower since it seems like everyone’s busy right now.”

“Whatever you want. I’m going to try to sleep more.” Hitoshi rolled over, pulling his pillow on top of his head.

Harry swallowed. He went through the motions of grabbing his things, not really paying attention to anything around him and almost running into Hitoshi’s bed and then the futon. 

Halloween.

This would make it seventeen years. Seventeen years since his parents died. Seven years since the troll. Then six years since the Chamber of Secrets opened. Five years since Sirius first broke into Hogwarts. Four years since Harry was picked for the Triwizard tournament.

Harry hated Halloween.

He leaned his forehead against the shower wall. 

Bloody hell. 

He just wanted to go to sleep and wake up on Monday. 

He felt empty.

So empty. 

He didn’t want to do anything. See anyone. He just wanted—

But there was that girl.

A death eater still had her and Jugson hadn’t know anything. 

Harry took a deep breath. 

He had to pull himself together. He couldn’t let this control him. So what if Halloween was tomorrow? Harry was in Japan. Voldemort was dead. Tom Riddle couldn’t ruin this day for Harry ever again. He was going to a party, and he was going to have _fun_.

Harry left the shower, shivering as he changed into the day’s clothes. Hitoshi was still asleep when he got back to the room, so Harry made his way downstairs, hoping to find something for breakfast in the cupboards. 

He didn’t expect the chaos that greeted him when the doors to the lift opened. 

The entire room was a mess. 

_Everyone_ was in the downstairs common area.

Boxes with decorations spilling out of them were strewn everywhere across the room—skulls and candles and sheets and fake spider webs and pumpkins and _so much_ black and orange. Streamers hung from the ceiling, rolled across the floor, and draped over chairs. 

Warily, Harry stepped forward and let the lift doors close behind him. 

“Potter-kun!” Harry glanced to the right to see Midoriya grinning at him. “Did you come down to help decorate? Kaminari-kun said Hitoshi-kun was still asleep.” 

Harry nodded. “He’s still asleep, but I actually came down for some breakfast…” his voice drifted off as he glanced back at the kitchen where Bakugou was arguing with some really muscular guy about a pan. 

“Oh!” Midoriya grinned at him. “That’s no problem. Is there anything you want? I’ll go get it for you.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief. He had not been looking forward to dealing with a yelling Bakugou. “Anything’s fine, really. Thanks.” 

Midoriya nodded, then was jogging toward the kitchen, calling out “Kacchan!” and immediately getting shouted at. 

Harry winced as the boy cheerfully talked with his angry classmate, then blinked in surprise when Bakugou was grabbing eggs away from Midoriya and the green-haired boy came back a few minutes later Midoriya returned with a plate of freshly scrambled eggs, a fork, and a glass of milk. “Here you go!” 

Harry tentatively took the food, sitting down at the nearby table. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Harry nodded his head back toward the kitchen at Bakugou and Midoriya laughed. “I’ve known Kacchan since we were little. To get him to do something all you have to do is tell him that he obviously can’t do it. So I said that I knew he obviously didn’t have the time to make eggs for you since he was so busy he couldn’t handle one more task. And then he yelled at me to get out and he’d do it. Easy.” 

Huh. Harry frowned. “But I said anything was fine. You could have just grabbed me some toast.”

“Why do that when I can get Kacchan to make eggs? Besides, it’s not like I asked him to do something elaborate like a crepe.” 

Harry supposed that was true. “Thanks, then.” The eggs _were_ good at least. 

“Glad to help!” Midoriya gave him a thumbs up, then paused, scratching at his cheek as he suddenly looked nervous. “Listen, about the other day… um. I’m sorry if we asked about something too personal.” 

Too personal? What did—Oh! His wand. “It’s fine.” Merlin’s beard, how could he ask Midoriya if he had magic, though, without seeming weird? “You.. Um… sorry for the quirkless comment. It’s…well the stick is something a quirkless relative of mine had. He always said it was something quirkless people used, and it’s never sparked for me, so I was just confused.” There was that look again—panic flashing through Midoriya’s eyes. “It must be broken, though. I mean, you obviously have a quirk, and the stick’s really old. I just keep it with me as a memento.” 

Midoriya laughed nervously. “Wow, that’s really cool. I haven’t heard of anything like that before. Too bad it’s broken!”

Harry shrugged. “It was probably just superstition or something anyways.” 

“Ah, y-yeaaah. Yup. I’m sure there are lots of old superstitions and things like that.” Why was Midoriya so on-edge? It had to be about the discussion of quirklessness, but Harry didn’t understand _why._ “That has to be disappointing though.” 

“It’s fine. Like I said, I was mostly taken by surprise.” 

“Right!” Midoriya rubbed at the back of his head, glancing around the room. “Well, I’ve got to go help move some of the decorations, but if you need help with anything else, just ask!” 

Before Harry add anything, the other boy was running off, taking some boxes from a girl with green hair. 

That was weird. 

The way Midoriya had acted…. But he _couldn’t_ be quirkless. He had a quirk, so he couldn’t have magic. Right? If Nezu’s theory was correct, then Midoriya had just had the potential for magic. He didn’t actually _have_ it. 

Harry groaned, rubbing at his forehead in annoyance. This was too confusing for this early in the morning. 

“Dude, my man, you alright?” Harry blinked as Kaminari plopped down next to him, now only a few small pieces of toilet paper clinging to his shirt.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Harry gave the boy a small smile. “I see you found a way to remove the toilet paper.” 

“Yeah! I found Kirishima and he helped me. Sorry for waking you up this morning! That’s my bad. I always forget what a grouch Shin can be sometimes.” 

“It’s fine. I’m used to early mornings.“

“That sucks, man.” Kaminari sighed, dramatically collapsing on the table. “I’m not a morning person, really, but once I wake up, I’m never able to go back to sleep. And Bakugou banged on my door to make me help with decorating, so…” he shrugged. “Being friends with morning people is the worst.” His eyes suddenly widened in alarm and his head perked up. “Wait. You don’t _like_ mornings, do you?!”

“Not particularly.” Harry shook his head—that was definitely not the case, even if the Dursleys had made him wake up early for most of his life. He probably shouldn’t use that as his explanation, though. “One of my dorm mates was an early riser, and he wasn’t exactly quiet about it.” There. That was normal enough. And Neville really had always woken up ridiculously early to go work in the greenhouses. 

“You lived in dorms, too? That’s cool, man! Did you guys do anything for Halloween?” Kaminari frowned, his brows scrunching together in thought. “Does England even have Halloween parties?”

“Yes.” Hogwarts definitely had, at least. Harry couldn’t remember much before that. “My school loved it, actually. We always had a huge feast and—”

“Wait. Hold up—you had _feasts_?!”

Bloody hell, was that not a normal school thing? “On special days, yes. Halloween was one of those. It was an important day in my um… in that town.” 

“That would be so AWESOME! I want feasts!” Kaminari pouted, slouching across the table. “I bet the food would be so good. It sounds good. I mean, it would have to taste good for a _feast_. Lunch Rush could totally pull one off, too. Man…” Kaminari sighed, his eyes glazing over for a few seconds before he turned back to Harry. ”What kind of food did you have for Halloween? Pumpkin things, right? There would have to be lots of pumpkin things!”

“Um. We had pumpkin juice.” Though that had really been more of an every day thing. “And pumpkin pie.”

Kaminari’s eyes lit up and he shot up in his chair, palms slamming onto the table. “BAKU-BRO!”

Harry winced as red eyes turned toward them, but he managed to refrain from any bigger reaction than that, which Harry thought that was pretty good progress. “What the fuck do you want, Pikachu?!”

“We need to make a feast!” 

“Huh?!” Bakugou gestured to the pile of dishes surrounding him and the other guy. “What the hell do you call this, bastard!” 

“Potter-san’s school always did a feast and we want to make him feel welcome, right?” Kaminari’s grin was bright and unrepentant as Bakugou’s eyebrow twitched. “You’re always saying we should be better hosts. So we need a feast with pumpkin pie! And pumpkin juice!” 

“So _that’s_ want you fucking want.” The other boy rolled his eyes. “But this means _I’m_ the one that has to make all that shit! And do we even have enough of the fucking ingredients? What about—”

“Calm down, man! We’ll help. And I’m sure Satou would be down to help too. Right?” He turned to the brown haired boy, who looked between the two of them, horribly lost, before saying something hesitantly in Japanese. 

Kaminari grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “Exactly, my dude!” 

Bakugou growled, banging around in the cupboards. 

Harry sighed. He didn’t think anyone non-magical even knew about pumpkin juice, so whatever they made was bound to be interesting. Hopefully the pie would at least be good. 

“You done with your dishes, Potter-kun? I’ll take them over there for you.” 

Oh. Harry looked down at the empty plate. “That would be great, thanks.” 

Kaminari grinned and was then heading over to the kitchen, calling out in Japanese. 

Harry frowned, suddenly realizing that now he was surrounded by people and had no reason to be down here any more and his skin was crawling, itching as everyone looked at him, watching him—

He took a deep breath. 

He was fine. 

There were a lot of people, but they weren’t actually looking at him. They were decorating. 

Harry stood up, heading toward the lifts. Even if he was fine, that didn’t mean he had to stay down here. 

Shit. A wave of heat rushed through his body, making his steps falter. One of the girls asked him something in Japanese, but Harry just smiled at her and hit the button to summon the lift. He would have to stay quiet in Hitoshi’s room, but it would still be preferable to this madness. 

The second the lift doors shut, the sounds became muted and Harry let his shoulders relax, the urge to claw at his arms dying down a bit. No one was watching him here. Well, except maybe through a security camera. Harry should never forget about those. 

But everything was so quiet upstairs compared to the chaos lobby. It was nice. Calming.

Harry slowly opened the door to Hitoshi’s room, slipping inside and closing it before collapsing on his futon.

Silence. 

Complete silence.

“You good?”

Bloody hell. 

Hitoshi was apparently still awake. Harry rolled onto his side.

The other boy was sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “Haven’t been able to sleep so I might as well get up.” Hitoshi yawned.

“Sorry, I could have brought you up some coffee.” Harry tried to act normal and make himself smile. 

Hitoshi blinked. Purple eyes narrowed. “You didn’t answer my question. Evading it means you’re not ok. Why? Did something happen?”

Harry winced. “Sorry. I… Nothing happened, I just didn’t realize Halloween was tomorrow.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, debating whether or not he should explain further.

“Is Halloween a trigger for you? You didn’t mention anything before.” 

“It’s not… nothing that bad, really. The worst thing that happened I don’t even remember, so I…” Harry’s voice trailed off. Hitoshi wasn’t going to be satisfied with a vague explanation. He never was. Harry sighed. “My parents died on Halloween.” 

“Shit.” 

Harry shook his head, “I was only one, so I don’t really remember it! I shouldn’t let it affect me this much, but Voldemort he… well he liked the symbolism of always setting his plots in motion or something on Halloween so I just…” Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t like the holiday anymore. I just feel like something’s going to happen and I can’t escape it.”

“Do you want to stay here and avoid everyone?” Hitoshi’s voice was cautious, his eyes evaluating him. 

“No.” Harry paused, remembering how chaotic it had been downstairs. “Yes?” He groaned. “Distractions are nice, and I don’t want to let Voldemort control my actions or anything, but it’s a bloody madhouse down there right now.” 

Hitoshi snorted. “Yeah, that’s fair.” The other boy yawned, stretching his arms out. “How about we avoid the party preparations then and head down when their madness is a bit more organized?”

“Yes, thank you.” Harry nodded. “Sorry to take you away from your friends.”

“Please. You’re getting me out of party set-up duties. It’s no problem.” Hitoshi stood up, grabbing his phone off his nightstand. “I am going to go brave the chaos for a cup of coffee, though. You want anything?”

“No, thanks though.” 

Hitoshi shrugged, but paused before he opened the door. “If at some point today or this evening everything becomes too much, you have to actually tell me that, ok? I can’t intuit everything.” 

Harry’s mouth twisted into a half-hearted grin. “You seem to be doing pretty well so far.” 

Hitoshi rolled his eyes and left.

Harry was alone.

Actually alone.

Hitoshi’s footsteps faded down the hallway.

Real silence. 

Harry rolled over onto his back, closing his eyes. 

Every now and then there were these small moments when Hitoshi left Harry alone in his room, and Harry treasured every minute.

It wasn’t anything like the privacy he’d had at Grimmauld, but it was still a few minutes where someone else wasn’t watching him. Wasn’t monitoring his reactions. Wasn’t expecting anything from him.

He’d never appreciated how nice it was to be alone until after the war. Sure there had been moments at Hogwarts where everyone had watched him in fear or anger, but… well, having the entire wizarding enclave swarm you every time you stepped foot somewhere was suffocating to say the least. 

At least that wasn’t a problem while he was here. 

Here he was given space to breathe. No one tried to touch him or crowd around him. 

He was rarely truly alone like this, but he was also never swarmed or pressured to do anything.

It was better this way.

Harry almost wished it could stay this way.

He couldn’t stay here, though. There was too much to do back at the enclave. He would just have to enjoy this while he could. His focus had to be on getting Aizawa to trust him and on helping find information about the little girl’s whereabouts. 

The door opened again, and Harry looked up to see Hitoshi enter the room, a coffee mug in hand. “Ki said you mentioned pumpkin juice?” Hitoshi kicked the door shut and sat down on his bed, slouching as he sipped his coffee. “Bakugou’s going crazy and saying it doesn’t exist and Ki must have heard you wrong, so now he’s sulking because I won’t let him up here to prove you said pumpkin juice.” 

Harry snorted. “I did say pumpkin juice, but I have no clue how to make it. They drink that instead of orange juice in the enclaves.” 

Hitoshi wrinkled his nose. “That sounds disgusting.” His phone screen lit up and Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “One sec, let me tell him that he heard you correctly.” 

Harry closed his eyes again. “If they can’t make it, it’s fine.” 

“Yeah… that’s not how Bakugou works.” 

Right. “Midoriya said something about making him do things by saying he couldn’t.” 

“Exactly. Now it’s a challenge, so one way or another there’s going to be pumpkin juice, or he’ll have failed as a host or chef or whatever.” Hitoshi smirked as he set down his phone. “I’d say have fun testing that out, but knowing Bakugou it will somehow be good, even if it’s nothing like what you’re used to.” 

“Everything he’s made so far has been pretty good.” 

“That’s Bakugou for you.” Hitoshi closed his eyes, sipping at his coffee. “If you want to go to the party, well…” Hitoshi frowned. “Eri-chan’s going to be there.”

Oh. “That’s your little sister, right? With red eyes?” 

Hitoshi nodded, then was flipping through his phone before he finally held out a picture. “This is her.”

Red eyes.

They stood out immediately, but other than that she looked nothing at all like Voldemort. Sure she had pale skin, but she had a bright smile and long grey hair, and Harry had never seen Voldemort’s eyes shine with happiness. “She’s cute.” 

“Yeah.” Hitoshi’s grip tightened on his phone as he pulled it back. “She… well, she’s had a hard life. Dad rescued her from a mob base while her quirk was out of control. His quirk helps her live normally since she still can’t really control her abilities on her own, so the hospital would only release her into his care. If he hadn’t…” Hitoshi stopped talking to sigh. “She’d probably still be under observation there, I guess.” Hitoshi shrugged uneasily, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Once she was living with us it was only a matter of time before I officially had a sister.”

“She looks happy.” 

Hitoshi nodded. “She cares for others so much, even after everything she’s been through.” Purple eyes looked up from the photo, and Harry was startled by how determined they suddenly became. “If you’re going to have an issue with her, tell me now. If you’ll react negatively, she’ll assume she did something wrong. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Harry bit his lip, looking away. “I think I’ll be ok? I’ve been doing better with Bakugou-san. And… well, she’s just a little girl.”

Hitoshi’s shoulders relaxed. “Fine, I guess. Dad said he would make sure you two interacted as little as possible, anyway.” 

“That’s probably for the best.” Even if she was a little girl--no, _because_ she was a little girl. It was like Hitoshi said. She didn’t need to be around Harry and his issues. “Aizawa will be there tonight, then?”

Hitoshi nodded, still sipping at his coffee. “Him and some of the other teachers. They always try to supervise large gatherings to make sure we don’t become too rowdy.” 

Harry supposed that made sense. McGonagall had never supervised the parties in the Gryffindor tower, though. 

Hitoshi set aside his empty cup with a sigh. “Is there anything you’d like to do today while we avoid the decorating crew?”

“Fly.” The word was out before Harry’d even thought about it.

Hitoshi blinked at him. “Right. Ok, I’m gonna pretend that’s a completely normal pastime. You probably need a private space that’s pretty big to do that, though… I could ask Dad and Pop if we can access one of the gyms?”

“That would be great.” It didn’t matter if Harry flew as a bird or on his broom, flying in some way would be wonderful.

They ended up spending the rest of the morning in Hitoshi’s room waiting on Aizawa’s response, but they finally were given approval after lunch. Harry practically rushed to the gym, ignoring Hitoshi’s amused smirk and transforming the second the gym doors closed behind them. 

He always felt so much freer in the air. As if he could stop thinking about Death Eaters and dark objects and just _fly_

All too soon, though, Harry could hear Hitoshi calling for him, shouting that it was time for dinner and the party. 

Disappointed, Harry drifted back toward the purple-haired boy, circling a few last times before landing smoothly next to him, transforming a few feet above the ground so that he landed on sneakers and not bird talons. 

Hitoshi shook his head. “You’re just full of surprises. So you can turn into a crow?”

“Yeah.” Harry grinned. “Not any other animals, though. We’re limited to whatever represents us best.” 

“And you’re a crow?” Hitoshi tilted his head to the side, evaluating him. “Why?” 

Harry laughed nervously, heading toward the doors. “I’ve seen a lot of death.”

“Wouldn’t everyone have during the war?”

“No the way I did, no.” Harry could feel the other boy’s eyes on him, but Hitoshi didn’t ask further. It was nice.

Harry didn’t want to talk about the hallows. Or about being the Boy-Who-Lived and having a horcrux inside him. Or about intending to die, but instead surviving the killing curse _again._

Bloody hell, there went his good mood. 

Another wave of heat rushed through him, making his mood sour even more. He really wished he knew that that meant. It had to be of magical origin, but what?

“So we should probably go upstairs to change first—you still ok using your old school uniform?”

Right. Halloween. Costumes. “Yeah, that’s fine.” He was supposed to do something normal and lighthearted. “What are you dressing as?”

“An Oni.” 

Harry wracked his brain, trying to remember what that was. Wait, wasn’t it that ogre like demon thing? “Don’t those only wear loincloths?”

Hitoshi laughed. “Dad would hate that. Nah, I’m going to wear hakama pants and have a mask and club.” He shrugged, adding, “Ki’s got this western demon costume with a pitchfork and tail, and he always wants to do a couple’s thing, so we’re going as different types of demons.”

Oh. That made sense, Harry supposed. They’d never really done the whole “costume party” thing at Hogwarts. “What about Eri-chan? What’s she dressing up as?”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “Apparently it’s a secret. Probably something sickeningly cute, though.”

When they walked inside, Harry was relieved to see that all the boxes had disappeared and the decorations—though there were way more than he’d ever thought would be necessary—were all arranged so they didn’t actually get in the way of anything. 

“Shin!” Harry blinked as Kaminari came bounding toward them, practically throwing himself at Hitoshi. “You’re back! Don’t you like my costume?” The blonde stood back with a grin, reaching behind him to hold up a devil’s tail.

That outfit was… tight. Like really tight. The black leather pants clung to Kaminari’s legs and even though the red shirt was loose the top half of the buttons was undone and the tight dark red vest he was wearing over the shirt didn’t help—

Harry blushed and looked away as Hitoshi pulled his boyfriend closer, leaning forward and whispering something in Japanese. After a few seconds Harry looked back to see Hitoshi pulling away with a smirk as Kaminari blushed bright red.

Harry was pretty sure he didn’t want to know what Hitoshi had just said. The boy let his hands fall away from Kaminari’s waist and turned to Harry. “You ready to go change?”

“Yeah.” 

“Umm… Shin? I may have gotten something else for your costume.” Kaminari scratched sheepishly at his cheek while Hitoshi sighed.

“Ki. The beauty of this costume was that we didn’t have to get anything.” 

“I _know_ but like, you’d look so hot. Please. For me.” Kaminari was pouting now and Hitoshi groaned. 

“Fine. As long as it’s not too uncomfortable or anything.”

“It won’t be!” Kaminari grinned. “See you in a bit!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hitoshi groaned, tilting his head back in exasperation. “Kaminari enjoys dressing up for this holiday way too much.” He sighed again, pressing the button for the lift. 

“You aren’t even going to ask what he added?”

Hitoshi shrugged. “He knows I wouldn’t wear anything ridiculous. I might as well go see for myself rather than try to figure out what he bought from his excited ramblings of everything he saw when he got it.”

When they reached Hitoshi’s room, though, Harry still wasn’t sure what Kaminari had bought. Hitoshi apparently recognized the clothing because he just rolled his eyes, then pulled off his t-shirt before slipping the black fabric over his arms. 

Oh. It was like… sleeves or something? But there was also a back part that covered his shoulder blades, and a string tied into a tight knot at the front. The fabric was snug around his arms, somehow making Hitoshi’s muscles even more obvious than when his arms were bare. Harry still wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he could admit it did look good. 

He should probably work on his own “costume,” though. Harry went over to his trunk, pulling out his robes and putting them on, but disillusioning the Gryffindor badge just to be safe. His old school hat needed an enlargement charm, so the fabric was a little stretched thin since Harry wasn’t the best at those, but it would do the job for tonight. He kept his wand holster hidden on his leg, though. After Midoriya and Todoroki had seen it, Harry didn’t want to risk bringing it out in the open and having them connect the item with his outfit. 

Hitoshi laughed, “Your hat really does look like the stereotype.” 

Harry looked up to glare at the other boy, then blinked in surprise at his outfit. Hitoshi now had on dark grey… hakama pants, he’d called them? And he was tightening a leather strap across his chest that fastened spiked metal armor over his left shoulder. “Would you come tie the mask for me? I want to actually be able to see people, so I’m just going to wear it on the side of my head.” He held up the black mask, and for a second all Harry could think of was the death eater masks, but this was black, not white. Black and had golden horns and looked nothing like a skull. 

Hitoshi held it in place while Harry tied the string around his forehead. “Your costume looks cool.”

“Thanks.” The boy shrugged. “I would’ve been fine with just the pants and mask, but Ki went and got a club from the support department and then apparently found the upper body pieces who knows where.” 

Harry grinned. “They do help with the look.”

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “Tell him that.” He glanced over Harry’s robes, then snickered. “Your outfit looks baggy and couldn’t flatter anybody. You really had to wear that as your uniform?”

Gee, thanks. Harry crossed his arms, annoyed. “It’s meant for practicality, not to show off muscles like yours is.” 

Hitoshi grinned. “Just admit you’re ridiculously scrawny and you lot try to hide it with your baggy sleeves.”

“We do not!” Harry huffed. “When you have magic, you don’t need to exercise a lot. That’s all.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that.” Hitoshi grinned at him, then grabbed the black, spiky metal club where it was leaning by the door. “Come on, let’s go ahead and head down. Unless you need to stay up here and gather yourself for a minute?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. It would be fine. He knew everyone down there. No one had magic. He had his wand securely in its holster. Everything would be fine.

When they arrived downstairs, Kaminari practically squealed. “Shin! You look amazing!” The boy attached himself to Hitoshi’s arm, grinning as he said something in Japanese and Hitoshi responded. 

From the jeers around them, Harry assumed it was more flirting. He rolled his eyes and headed over to the kitchen where food had been spread out. 

“Here.” Harry jumped, startled, and saw Bakugou dressed as some sort of werewolf, holding up a glass as he was looking away. “You wanted that pumpkin juice shit, right?”

Oh. “Thanks.” Harry tentatively took the cup, then drank a sip.

He blinked.

It… it actually tasted a lot like the juice in the enclave. Maybe a little sweeter? But still good.

“Well?!” Bakugou was glaring at him now.

“It’s really good, thanks.” 

“Hah.” The boy nodded, apparently satisfied. “Of course it is. The pie’s the fucking best, too. There’s some western utensils on the counter since you still can’t fucking eat properly.” And then he was leaving.

Bewildered, Harry watched him walk away. Had that been something nice or an insult? He wasn’t even sure. Food sounded better than any other idea he had at the moment, though. 

Harry took a plate off the counter and began to help himself to small portions like he saw a couple others doing, then went to sit at one of the tables. He felt so awkward here. He didn’t want to cling to Hitoshi who was… Harry looked around, then groaned. The boy was off in a corner, with Kaminari sitting in his lap. He definitely didn’t want to go over there. Part of him wanted to be annoyed with his roommate for ditching him, but this was their party anyway, and he’d already spent the whole day with Hitoshi. Of course he’d want to spend the party with his boyfriend, but the only other person Harry even somewhat knew was Midoriya, really, and he was helping set up what looked like karaoke. 

And there were so many _people_.

Harry knew they weren’t looking at him, but it felt so crowded and it made his skin itch and he just wanted to leave but he couldn’t. He didn’t want Voldemort to control his life like this. He wanted to get back to normal. He wanted to be able to enjoy a party. The last party he’d attended had been Bill’s wedding and then… Harry’s eyes darted toward the doors. He knew where all the exits were. He was ok. 

“You ok, kid?” Harry looked up to see Aizawa sitting across from him, dressed up like some sort of mummy in a torn up white suit with medical bandages wrapped around his arms and loosely around his head, his usual scarf still draped over his shoulders. “Here.” 

Harry blinked.

The man was holding out a black cat.

The cat meowed.

Harry looked back at Aizawa, but his face was expressionless, giving him no answer. Harry decided he’d just ask. “Why are you giving me a cat?”

“It’s a stereotype, right? Witches and wizards have black cats. He can help your costume.” The man shrugged. “This is Death to Rodents, by the way.” 

Harry stared at the man incredulously, then slowly reached out to take the cat from him. Its fur was surprisingly soft. Harry hesitantly scratched behind its ears, but the cat seemed to like the motion, so Harry kept going. “_This_ is Death to Rodents?” 

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s vicious.” 

“Right.” Harry definitely doubted that. Petting the cat was a good distraction from thinking about everyone around him, though. Aizawa had probably brought the cat because he thought Harry’s mental state was fragile, but as much as he hated the idea that Aizawa thought he was weak, Harry couldn’t actually bring himself to refuse the animal. 

It was weird that Aizawa was such a cat person when Sirius was a literal dog person. The two were very different, yet Aizawa’s stubbornness and ability to hold a grudge rivaled that of any Black Harry’d met. 

Plus… Harry sighed. There were plenty of adults that had tried to act as Harry’s parental figures, but Aizawa’s approach was painfully similar to Sirius’. They both gave Harry his space while simultaneously popping up out of nowhere to give him support. Sirius had been forced to give Harry space because he was on the run, but Aizawa’s back-and-forth attitude probably had more to do with his hatred of the Black family in general. 

Harry wasn’t sure if Aizawa being supportive like this meant he was earning the man’s trust, though. Surely giving Harry his cat meant that Aizawa trusted him at least a little bit?

Aizawa was so hard to read. “Why did you come over here? Aren’t you supposed to be chaperoning?”

“I am.” The man’s eyes drifted across the room, and he sighed when he spotted Hitoshi and Kaminari in the corner, but now they’d been joined by a little girl, who was sitting in Kaminari’s lap (who was still on Hitoshi’s) and waving her arms around. 

Harry couldn’t see her eyes from here, but she looked like the little girl in the picture, so he assumed she was Hitoshi’s sister. “What’s Eri-chan supposed to be dressed up as?” She was wearing a white leotard and had her hair pulled back, but Harry couldn’t see anything identifiable about the costume.

“A unicorn. She has a tail on, but she’s sitting on it. Mic told her not to do that; it’ll get wrinkled.”

Alright, Aizawa fussing about a little girl’s costume was definitely a side he hadn’t expected to see. “Did she decide to dress as that because of the horn from her quirk?” Harry thought he remembered there being a horn in the picture, but he couldn’t see one now. Was her hair hiding it?

Aizawa nodded. “It’s smaller right now, but she’s starting to accept it as part of her, which is good to see.” 

Part of Harry wanted to ask what her quirk was, but he also felt like that would be rude. Whatever it was, it was obviously dangerous if she had to stay near Aizawa. 

Wait. If Aizawa and Eri were here… Harry looked around, confused. “Where’s your husband?”

“Over there.” Aizawa waved toward the food, but even though there was only one adult there, it still took Harry a second to recognize the man without his glasses and with his hair down. He was dressed as some sort of… punk rock vampire? Honestly Harry wasn’t even sure. “He looks a lot different with his hair down.” 

“He doesn’t wear it completely down like that very often—usually it’s up while he’s in hero gear or he has it pulled up in a loose bun while he’s relaxing.”

“Oh.” Harry looked back down at his plate. There were just so many _people_. He was pretty sure there were more students here than were just in Hitoshi’s class. He knew all of those faces by now, at least, even if he didn’t know their names, and there were definitely faces here that he didn’t recognize. 

Like the big guy with a lot of hair that looked like Fenrir. But he had glasses. He wasn’t Fenrir. 

There weren’t werewolves here. Just quirks.

Everything was just a quirk. Not magic.

“You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah.” Harry hurriedly took another bite, trying to act like everything was normal and he hadn’t been staring into space. “It’s just really crowded in here, that’s all. I’ve gotten better about being around people, I think, but this is more than are in a single class.” 

“A lot of students in 3B are here as well. The classes usually go to each other’s parties.” 

Harry supposed that made sense, even if it made him uneasy. 

Everyone was supposed to be here, though. No one was out of place. 

Harry was fine for the most part, really. Petting the cat was nice, and even after Aizawa stood up he was usually hovering nearby. Sometimes he would leave to do something with Eri, though. Apparently the girl liked to ride on his shoulders. 

And Harry wasn’t completely alone! Hitoshi, Kaminari, and Midoriya all came to talk to him at several points, which was nice of them. Kaminari tried to get Harry to do karaoke or bobbing for apples, or some sort of bean bag toss game, but Harry wasn’t really interested in those. And the invisible girl and a girl with horns came over to pet Death to Rodents for a while. They were nice, even if Harry couldn’t understand anything the invisible girl said. The girl with horns had been excited he spoke English and started talking ridiculously fast about how she missed the language but UA was just wonderful.

Harry had nodded along, happy to agree with whatever she said as she gushed about the school, and after that he could pick out her voice occasionally shouting things in excited English as she chatted with others. 

At one point they’d all circled around and done some sort of chant that had ended with everyone yelling Happy Birthday, which had startled Harry, but it hadn’t been too bad. He just hadn’t expected the shouts. That was it.

He was petting the cat and enjoying the party. Everything was going well. 

The problem started with the scare-fest.

Apparently it was a Halloween tradition for the students to sit in a circle and use their quirks to scare each other or just tell scary stories and even though Harry stayed out of the circle he still just—

Bloody hell. 

He’d been through a war. 

He shouldn’t be scared by this! He couldn’t even understand the stories they were telling! Everyone had been laughing during Iida’s entire story, and one of the 3A guys had brought out a disco ball for Merlin knows why. They weren’t scary!

But then there was the girl who could dismember herself and Harry’s brain had flashed to images of body parts strewn on the battlefield and another made had made him think of Fenrir’s bloody jaws biting into one of the students at Hogwarts, and then Nagini’s eyes blinking at him as it attacked, or red eyes staring at him, watching his every move or that terrible green light—

Harry clung to Death to Rodents.

He was _fine_.

“Kid—”

“You can do better!” 

Laughter. 

Harry looked up to see a thin sheet floating in the middle of the circle.

The veil. 

Harry’s heart froze. 

Screams.

All he could hear were screams.

Remus’ arms around him, holding him, pulling him back—he strained against the hold, wind rising around him. “Sirius! I’ve got to—”

Nothing.

Everything was gone. 

Blankness.

No.

No! This was too easy. Too calm. This wasn’t real! This… imperius. It had to be. 

He had to fight it! 

He couldn’t stay like this! He couldn’t leave the department of mysteries! He had to get Sirius out of there!

“Shit, he’s _really_ fighting me.” 

Death Eaters?

“You can release him when we’re outside.” 

No! Harry didn’t know why Death Eaters wanted him to leave but he couldn’t! He had to go back!

The veil was _here,_ if only Harry could reach out! He had to save Sirius! Had to warn him that Voldemort was here, it wasn’t just Bellatrix, he had to—

And then they were outside and away from the doors and his mind was _free_. He turned to run back inside, but a hand grabbed his. “Harry! Do you know where you are?”

Harry stared at him. 

No cloak. No mask. Not a Death Eater?

It was hard to make out the figure in the dim moonlight, but Harry could tell the man was tall with black hair. He could hear how worn out the voice was. How it was concerned about _him_.

Sirius! 

It had to be him!

He wasn’t in the Department of Mysteries! He wasn’t in the veil, he was here, he was safe!

Harry tackled his godfather, clinging to him. “You have to stay safe! You have to stay away from the veil, you can’t go back into the ministry, you just can’t and—” 

“Ok! Ok, we’ll stay right here.” Hesitant arms wrapped around him and Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief. Sobs threatened to break free.

“I can’t lose you.” 

But Voldemort was in the ministry! They couldn’t stay here, they had—

“Harry, I need you to listen to me carefully, ok?” Harry nodded. Anything. 

“That wasn’t the veil. We weren’t at the ministry.” What? But— “We’re outside. You can feel the breeze, right?”

The breeze?

That… that was weird. Harry _could_ feel the breeze. But to leave the ministry building you would have to apparate or take a floo. They hadn’t done that. They’d just walked. But there shouldn’t be any wind inside the ministry itself—

“Slow breaths.”

The voice was wrong. It was too low.

It wasn’t—

“Inhale slowly. Count to three. Then exhale.”

This wasn’t Sirius.

They were outside. 

They weren’t in the ministry. 

Harry could feel the cold breeze. He was standing on grass.

There were only two people with him.

There weren’t Death Eaters. Hermione and Ron weren’t here. The DA wasn’t here. The Order wasn’t here.

Sirius wasn’t here. 

Sirius didn’t own clothes like these.

There was no faint smell of a wet dog. 

Instead, there was a scarf wrapped around the man’s neck. Aizawa. Harry’s arms fell to his sides. 

“You back with us?”

Harry nodded, relieved when the hero let him step back.

Harry didn’t understand. That all… it had felt so real. Harry backed up, staring around himself at the bushes and trees and lampposts and sidewalk and it was all so _muggle_. 

He sank to the ground, pulling his legs close and resting his head on his knees.

He didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. 

He wanted Sirius.

But Sirius was dead.

He’d been dead for years. 

He’d been dead for years.

Harry was alone. He couldn’t have Sirius’ help, or Sirius’ warmth or--

No. He couldn’t break apart. He wouldn’t let himself. 

Harry slowly looked up at the other two figures, neither of whom was leaving. Instead, Aizawa and Hitoshi had both crouched down a few feet away.

“I’m fine now.” No movement. What did he have to do to make them leave? “Sorry. I… I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

“You didn’t hurt anyone.” Aizawa’s voice was calm and steady, but Harry didn’t trust it.

“Tell me the truth.” He had to have done something. If nothing had happened, Hitoshi wouldn’t have used his quirk.

“You blew the electricity out. Well, everyone else thinks Ki got spooked and did it, but he was sitting next to me, so I know it was you and not him.” Hitoshi rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for using my quirk, it was just… you screamed. And there was wind around you and your dishes were rattling and I was worried you were going to do more. I got you under control before anyone noticed, though. Well, before anyone noticed anything besides your scream. The blackout definitely helped with that.”

Wonderful. “Thanks.” It could have been worse, Harry supposed, but Hitoshi’s quirk definitely felt way too similar to the imperius.

Harry _hated_ that feeling.

Harry inhaled deeply, his breath stuttering as he let it out.

“What happened before I blew the lights? I remember… someone said that someone else could do better.” Harry swallowed. “I don’t… those were Sirius’ last words. And then I looked up and someone was laughing and there was this veil and—”

“Deep breaths. It’s ok.”

Right. Because breathing deeply is what he should focus on when he’d just been convinced he was in the Department of Mysteries.

“I think you’re talking about the sheet? Yanagi-san was making one float like a ghost while someone else was holding a flashlight under it. Pony-chan speaks English a lot, and she was teasing her about it not really being very ghost-like.” 

That was so… normal.

“It’s ok, alright? You never know what can trigger an attack like that.” 

It had been so real. Like he was back in the middle of a battle. Like he could lose Sirius all over again.

Absently, Harry wondered if Boggart’s looked like the veil for him now. 

Harry shuddered.

Right. He should… he should explain. “We’re alone, right?”

“Yes. Mic will keep any of the students who have auditory quirks from listening in.” 

“Good.” Harry swallowed. “Sirius… he died during a raid on the Ministry of Magic. It was a huge trap and—” Harry shook his head. “You don’t need to know that. We were in the Department of Mysteries to find a prophecy, but they have this artifact called the Veil. It… well, no one knows what it does. We only know that no one who has passed through it has ever returned. Sirius… he was dueling Bellatrix Black. His cousin. He was taunting her, telling her she could do better, and she managed to make him trip and…” Harry’s arms tightened around his legs. “He fell into the veil. Seeing that tonight, I thought… it was like I was reliving that moment all over again.” 

“You must have cared for him quite a bit.” 

“Yeah.” 

Harry looked up, staring at Aizawa. “You really do look like him, you know. I know you hate his family so you don’t like to hear that, but it’s true.” 

Tired eyes stared back at him. “I’m starting not to hate that particular comparison as much.” 

Harry tried to smile. “I think you would have liked him.” 

“What was he like?”

“Brave.” Harry let his legs fall, but rubbed his arms in the chilly air. “Too fearless for his own good, really. Stubborn. Loyal and trustworthy.” Harry frowned, “He could also be vicious, though. And could hold a grudge for forever.” 

“No one is without their faults, and sometimes it’s good to remember that even the people we love are not perfect.” 

“Yeah.” Harry grinned, “He loved a good prank, too. He could turn into a dog, well a grim, but not everyone knew that, so he would use that form to play tricks on people all the time.” 

Hitoshi moved a little closer, sitting down next to Harry on the grass. “What’s a grim?” 

Harry frowned. “It’s… well it’s just a large black dog, but seeing one is supposed to mean that you’ll soon die. It’s not a very good omen, really, but…” Harry sighed. “Sirius’ whole family and all his friends are dead, so I guess it wasn’t inaccurate.” 

“That’s not true.” Harry looked over at Aizawa, annoyed, but the man continued. “You’re alive. You can’t tell me that man didn’t consider you as both family and a friend.” 

_When all this is over, we’ll be a proper family. You’ll see._

Harry’s eyes widened and he looked away. “I… yeah. That’s true.” 

Silence stretched out between the three of them before Aizawa stood up and held out his hand. “Besides, creatures associated with death only lead people to death if those people don’t heed their warnings.” Harry blinked, startled. He’d never thought of it that way before. “You feeling good enough to head up to Hitoshi’s room?”

Harry glanced toward the dorms. “That would mean I would have to walk through the front room, right?”

“I have my teacher’s ID. We can climb the emergency exit stairs and enter that way, if you’d prefer.” 

Harry nodded. He would have to face the students again eventually, but he really didn’t want to deal with that right now. Slowly, he reached out and took the man’s hand. 

Harry found he didn’t really mind this contact. It was even comforting, in a way… even if it also made his heart ache.

If only Sirius hadn’t—

Harry sighed.

The world was filled with “if onlys,” and he couldn’t dwell on any of those. Thinking about the past wasn’t going to help him move forward.

But for just that brief second as Aizawa pulled him to his feet, Harry yearned for what could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I was dealing with some irl stress, but that's behind me now :D Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter and thanks so much for all the kudos and comments! I really appreciate all of them.
> 
> I'm part of a group of fic writers who are creating fics for people who donate to blacklivesmatter and related causes, so if you are interested in that project and/or having a fic written for you, here's a link to that post: https://fanficwriters4justice.tumblr.com/post/620364952307367936/donate-to-black-lives-matter-have-a-fic-written 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	13. It is the Unknown We Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Harry spent the day with Hitoshi, but then at the Halloween party had a PTSD episode triggered. Hitoshi and Aizawa draw him away from the group and help him snap out of it.

After the Halloween incident, Harry avoided everyone as best as he possibly could. Thankfully, Hermione had sent him books through the envelope portkey one at a time because she thought they might help him figure out what was happening with his magic. For once, Harry didn’t mind doing the research himself—it was a great excuse to ignore everyone around him.

Well, to try to ignore everyone around him.

He could still feel them staring even while he read. It was weird because the looks were of concern and not fear or anger. 

Harry wasn’t used to this many people being concerned about him. They didn’t even know him! Not really.

So he hid in Hitoshi’s room. 

Harry still had to attend classes during the day with Hitoshi, Aizawa, or Yamada, but other than that he spent every minute curled up on his futon, reading. He had hoped that the books would have given him some answer, but so far there was nothing. 

Not even a hint.

There were loads of horrible things that Harry was really glad it wasn’t, though.

According to most books, if a potion was causing this, the waves of heat should have either stopped or become much worse by now. On the other hand, if Harry had been hit by a spell, he would either already be dead or have no magic. Harry had even checked to see if anything in the trunk was cursed, but that had been a dead end, too. 

So now he was sitting at the back of one of the gyms, looking at a book on time-delayed curses that was charmed to look like it was a story about Merlin. Meanwhile, Aizawa was having Hitoshi’s class do a heroics exercise. Harry usually paid more attention to these classes—it was interesting to see what kinds of training the students went through, and it sometimes reminded Harry of his own days back with the DA. This week, though, any time Harry had glanced up he’d seen someone watching him. 

So instead he kept his head buried in his book. 

Another wave of heat passed through his body, and Harry wanted to bang his head against the wall. What was he missing? It had all started after he’d come to Japan, so there was probably some connection to that, right? But what? 

The episodes had started _before_ he’d met other wizards! No one was cursing him and he hadn’t brought a cursed object with him. So what was happening? Simply going to a new country shouldn’t cause his magic to react like this! And Hermione had been the one who had given him the portkey so it couldn’t be that. And either he had made the potions that he’d taken, or Hermione, so it couldn’t be those, either.

Nothing made sense. 

Even the time-delayed curses couldn’t be it. Every single one of them required some condition that Harry couldn’t have met because he had been away from the enclaves for too long. 

And yet the waves of heat still continued. 

Harry shut the book as the final bell rang, announcing the end of classes. 

Yet another day without any answers.

He trudged behind the hero students as they returned to their dorm, trying to figure out what he was missing. The second he entered Hitoshi’s room, though, all thoughts about his magic disappeared. 

The envelope was green. 

Why was the envelope green?!

Harry rushed to pull out the letter, his eyes quickly scanning its contents. 

They’d found another Death Eater. Nott’s father. He’d been in the same park as Jugson, and although he didn’t have the girl, he did know about her. 

Bloody hell. 

Harry’s eyes widened.

The girl wasn’t quirkless. 

She just had a quirk that most people wouldn’t realize was there; that was only triggered by someone from the enclaves. Cynthia Bailey destroyed all magic that touched her, almost like Aizawa’s mother. The Death Eaters had tried to kill her, but when they couldn’t she escaped and the Death Eaters had given up and left. 

But now one of them had her again. 

If she destroyed magic, though, there was a good chance this girl was still alive. Unless the Death Eater had decided to resort to muggle methods to kill her… but why kidnap her? 

Harry needed to tell Nezu and the others. 

He scribbled a quick note to let them know he’d gotten the message, then ran toward the lift. 

Hitoshi should be in the common room right now. Either that or he had already left for his internship. Harry really hoped that wasn’t the case.

Come on, lift, move!

He should have used the stairs.

Finally! 

Harry ran into the common room, looking around for purple hair. There! “Hitoshi!” His roommate spun around from where he’d been talking to Kaminari, his eyes wide in surprise. “I need your phone.” 

Hitoshi frowned, then jerked his head toward the doorway. “Come on, I’ll call whoever you want outside.” 

Thank Merlin. 

“I’ll be back in a second, Ki.” The teen squeezed his boyfriend’s hand, then headed toward the door. Harry quickly followed, ignoring the blonde’s questioning gaze. 

When they were outside, Harry pulled out the wrinkled parchment from his pocket and showed it to the boy. 

Purple eyes scanned over the page. “Shit.” 

“My thoughts exactly.” 

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk more privately.” Hitoshi reached to grab Harry’s wrist, then paused. 

Harry sighed. “It’s ok. Lead the way to somewhere we can call undisturbed.” Getting separated and lost in the woods around the dorms would not be fun.

The hand closed around his wrist. 

Harry’s skin crawled, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he expected. Harry still had to practically jog to keep up with the taller boy’s long strides. 

Finally, Hitoshi stopped, pulling out his phone almost immediately. While it rang, Harry cast a quick hominum revelio. He didn’t dare put up a silencing ward in case that interfered with the call, but he could at least make sure no one was nearby. 

“Principal Nezu. Can I speak freely?” Hitoshi must have gotten an affirmative response, because he started explaining what the letter had said. 

After a long pause, he sighed. “Is there anything we can do besides wait? We know she has a quirk now. And that quirk is most likely the reason they kidnapped her instead of just killing her.”

Hitoshi grimaced, then thanked the principal and hung up. 

“We’re still stuck waiting, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” Hitoshi sighed. “Knowing her quirk gives us their motive, but it doesn’t really help us find her.” 

Harry hated this so much. They should be out looking for her! And he knew people were, but who knows what this Death Eater was doing to her.

Meanwhile Harry was doing nothing. If he was there, he could search or act as bait or—

He took a deep breath. 

People were handling it. 

She would be fine. 

It would all work out ok. He had to focus on getting the Black artifacts destroyed. He had to stay here.

“You good?”

Harry looked up to see purple eyes watching him carefully, even though Hitoshi’s posture was loose and unguarded, not wary. Harry appreciated that.

“Yeah. I just wish I was there so I could do _something_.” It was impossible, though. Harry would never be able to apparate across this big of a distance. If he used the portkey, Hermione would probably give him another one, but it would be putting even more work on her shoulders. Not to mention that whatever was going on with his magic might become worse if he travelled again, since that’s when this mess had all started.

“Come on.” Hitoshi turned to head back toward the dorms. “Let’s go hole up in my room with Ki and watch a terrible movie.” 

Harry was confused. “You want to watch a bad movie on purpose?”

“Of course.” Hitoshi grinned at him. “They’re hysterical.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Wait. “Don’t you have your internship today?”

“I work for Dad and he’s made me in charge of watching out for you.” Harry was pretty sure the man had meant that as a guard duty of sorts and not as a friend or whatever this was, but he appreciated it. Hitoshi continued, “I’m sure Nezu has already updated him and he probably expects me to text and cancel any minute now.” 

Harry sighed. “I guess. I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.” 

“He’s the one that doesn’t want to leave you unsupervised. I promise it’s fine.” Hitoshi pushed open the door to the dorms and Harry followed him inside, keeping his shoulders straight and refusing to hide behind the taller boy even though everyone was looking at them. 

Hitoshi ignored the stares and called out to his boyfriend, “Ki, shitty movie marathon?”

“You got it, man!” Denki grinned, jumping up from the couch where he’d been somehow tangled in a mess of limbs with his classmates. Bakugou, the red head, the pink acid girl, and… Sero? The one with the tape. “I’ll fetch my computer!” 

“Oi!” Bakugou yelled something, but was quickly distracted from Kaminari and started shouting at the other teenagers on the couch.

Kaminari bounded toward the lifts, pressing the button about ten times before Hitoshi and Harry met him there. Hitoshi rolled his eyes at the blonde’s eagerness. “You still have to do your homework, Ki.” 

The blonde pouted. “But you said marathon!” 

“And we will. _While_ we do homework. I’ll kick you out if you can’t.” 

“Ugh.” The boy sighed dramatically as he entered the elevator and slumped against its wall. “I wanted to have _fun_.”

Hitoshi laughed. “It will be. You’ll just also have to work.” 

“Boo.” Harry shook his head as Kaminari refused to look at both of them during the whole ride up, then grumbled something under his breath as he left the lift.

Hitoshi sighed. “He’s so melodramatic sometimes. I really might have to kick him out, though. Ki is terrible at multi-tasking, but he’d sulk even more if I didn’t invite him.” 

“Thanks for doing this.” Harry knew the boy was just watching the movies as a way to distract him from everything. The two really should be focusing on their schoolwork for tomorrow.

“It’s no problem. I’ve already done most of my work anyway since I was originally schedule to be at internship this afternoon.” Hitoshi grinned at him. “Want to watch the movie about wizards?”

Oh no. Hitoshi was far too excited about that for it to be anything good. “How bad is it?”

“Absolutely terrible. I guarantee it will make you cringe.” 

Harry groaned. “You say that like it’s a good thing.” 

The other boy laughed as the lift came to a stop. “That’s because it is! They have pointy hats like yours, except they’re blue.” 

“Blue?” What in Merlin’s name? “What would they be _blue_? I mean, I think I’ve seen a purple one once, but the man was known for his eccentric fashion.” Maybe Mr. Lovegood had a blue hat? Or Dumbledore might have had one?

Hitoshi shrugged. “I don’t know why the hats are blue, but they are and it’s wonderful.” 

“But it makes no sense!” 

“That’s the joy! Embrace it.” 

Hitoshi pushed open his door, then went over to his desk, hiding the envelope again and grabbing some books. “You can go ahead and sit on the bed. Ki won’t be long; he probably won’t even grab his textbooks since he can just use mine.” 

Harry shrugged and sat down at the end. He felt awkward, now that he was sitting here. How exactly did this work? They all just leaned over to watch the one computer screen or something? “So you can get movies on computers now? Though I actually don’t know if that’s new… I’ve never watched a movie with friends or anything like that.” 

Hitoshi’s hands paused as he shoved some papers into a book. “Doing it legally is a fairly new thing, I guess. Not that Ki’s methods are that legal.” Huh? But they were training to be heroes. Why would they watch movies illegally? “You didn’t even watch movies with friends when you were younger?”

Harry frowned. Hitoshi’s voice had been carefully neutral with that last question. Why, though? Harry must have said something weird again. Was it that unusual not to watch movies with friends when you were young? “My cousin was always having his friends over, and I didn’t really get along with them. I was more of an introvert.” 

Hitoshi’s hands tightened around the books, and his voice came out tense. “You’re a _crow_, Harry.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Harry didn’t understand. Why bring up his animagus form?

Hitoshi finally looked up and made eye contact, his expression frustrated. “Crows are social animals.” 

Bloody hell. “Just because crows are—

The door flew open. “What about crows? There’s a really good horror movie that Tokoyami showed me that has this cool crow in it, if we want to watch that instead.” 

“Maybe next time, Ki.” Hitoshi grinned at his boyfriend, all of the earlier frustration evident in his face. “I was thinking we’d start with the wizard movie, actually.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief as Kaminari bounced onto the bed. “Awesome! That one’s great, too.” 

Thank goodness for Kaminari. Harry really didn’t want to talk about the Dursleys. 

Kaminari grinned as he opened up something on his computer. “Kirishima texted that they wanted to join us as they finished work, but I figured I should probably check with you two. Would that be ok?”

Hitoshi turned to Harry, one eyebrow raised, “Do you mind if Bakugou and them come in?”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t exactly _want_ to deal with a crowded room and two people that had red eyes, but Hitoshi and Kaminari were doing him a favor. And working on that issue would definitely help distract him from waiting for news from Britain. “Sure.” 

“Great!” Kaminari sent off a quick text, grinning wider as he quickly got a response.  
“Kirishima says whoever finishes first will bring up some popcorn.”

“Sounds good. I could use Bakugou’s help making sure you actually finish your shit.” 

“Hey!” Kaminari pouted. “For that you have to be the one to get up and turn off the lights.” 

“Nope.” Hitoshi held up a book. “We’re going to be doing math problems while we watch. The lights stay on.” 

“Ugh. Be that way.” Kaminari stuck out his tongue before hitting play.

The movie was… odd. Hitoshi and Kaminari’s sarcastic commentary was definitely enjoyable, but there were such odd ideas about what magic was and what wizards acted like… Harry wasn’t sure whether to be confused, insulted, or horrified. Whatever he was thinking must’ve been showing on his face, though, because Hitoshi ended up laughing at Harry’s expression more than he laughed at the movie itself.

But everything was so bloody ridiculous! Like why did they think that wizards could talk to cats? Or that magic happened in weird rhyming chants? Or that they could fly on a vacuum cleaner when a broom wasn’t available? Magic didn’t work that way!

After they all transformed into fish, Harry couldn’t take the bizarreness anymore and got up to go to restroom (and Kaminari _kindly_ paused the movie for him). Right as Harry was about to open the bathroom door, though, Midoriya emerged and almost ran into him. 

The boy stumbled back awkwardly, giving Harry a shy grin. “Sorry! Um… you enjoying the movie? I’ve heard a lot of laughter, but it’s mostly been Hitoshi-kun.” 

Harry wrinkled his nose. “It’s weird. Ok, but weird.” 

Midoriya laughed. “That sounds like the kind of movie those two would make you watch. Todo-kun likes those, too. His favorite is about an invasive plant that escapes a scientist’s lab and destroys the world.” 

What in Merlin’s name? Harry didn’t remember the Dursleys watching any movies like these. Was it a cultural thing?

Wait. 

Plants!

Todoroki’s plant! 

Midoriya said before that he’d wanted Todoroki’s plant to grow and it _had_. And now Harry knew Midoriya might have magic. But Midoriya had also thought he could have been wrong about it’s growth being odd…. Harry needed to find out more. “How’s Todoroki-kun’s plant doing? The one you were worried about?” 

“Oh.” Midoriya frowned. “It’s odd. The flower’s still blooming, but I’ve looked up it’s blossoming cycle and I was right that it shouldn’t be right now. And Todo-kun says he hasn’t changed the temperature in his room or anything, so we don’t know why it’s happening.” Midoriya shrugged, his smile returning. “I’m no plant expert, though! And it’s pretty to look at, so I figure we should just appreciate it.” 

Harry’s mind was reeling.

Accidental magic?

But it was just a plant.

It had bloomed when Midoriya had wanted it to, though. He’d wanted to make his friend happy, and magic would have made that desire happen somehow… 

“Is Todoroki-kun still stressed?” That had been why Midoriya had been concerned. If Harry was right, the flower would probably stop blooming once Todoroki felt less stressed.

Midoriya rubbed the back of his neck and looked down the hallway at Todoroki’s door. “Yeah. Family stuff has been worse for him lately. Nothing too bad! Just, um… things are tense. That’s all.” Midoriya’s smile was strained. Harry wondered if this “tense” was like how he’d been with the Dursleys. It wasn’t his place to ask, though. 

“I hope things get better.” 

“Thanks!” Midoriya’s smile brightened at that. “I’m sure they will. Try to enjoy the rest of the movie!” And then he was walking away, returning to Todoroki’s room.

Harry didn’t know what to think.

Was it accidental magic or not?

It could just be that Midoriya was wrong about the plant, but then there was the wand… but Nezu had thought Midoriya’s quirk had won out over his magic or something. That meant he shouldn’t be having accidental magic. 

Harry shook his head. It was probably just a different type of plant than the two thought.

A different type of plant that bloomed right when Midoriya wanted it to.

And then there was the wand…

Harry groaned.

How could all of that be coincidence?

But if it wasn’t, what could it mean?

“Dude, you ok? You look like you saw a ghost.”

Harry blinked. He was back in Hitoshi’s room, and Kaminari and Hitoshi were staring at him. 

“Fine, sorry. Just um… distracted.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes narrowed. “Ki, would you mind going downstairs and seeing if the others will be joining us anytime soon? I’m kind of hungry for that popcorn you mentioned earlier.” 

The blonde huffed. “Fine, fine. I see how it is. Have your brotherly talk without me.” Brotherly? Harry blinked in confusion. Brothers kicked friends out of the room for private conversations? 

Kaminari pushed his computer off his lap onto the bed, then hopped up, grinning at Harry as he walked past. “Try not to think so much, my man!” 

The door shut behind him. 

Harry sighed. “Sorry, Hitoshi. I didn’t mean to interrupt the movie like that, I just realized something and got distracted.” 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Bakugou will probably keep Kaminari down there for a while and make him finish some work before he comes back up, which will be good for him anyway.” Hitoshi leaned back against the wall, his purple eyes studying Harry. “So what did you figure out?”

Right. Harry glanced at the wall between the two rooms, then spoke softly so he couldn’t be overheard. “I don’t know, really. This is probably going to sound stupid, but I just…. Midoriya-kun mentioned a few days ago that Todoroki-kun has this plant, ok? And apparently he’s stressed right now, but the plant has a flower that helps him relax?”

“Yeah.” Hitoshi nodded. “A sakurasou. His Mom gave it to him.” 

“Oh.” So everyone knew about it? “And it’s definitely that plant?”

Hitoshi’s eyebrow rose. “What do you mean?”

“Like they haven’t misidentified it or anything?”

“ I’ve seen it myself once or twice, it’s definitely a sakurasou. Plus it’s a really common flower. They’d have to be idiots to misidentify it.” 

Bloody hell. There went that option. “It’s just… Midoriya says it’s blooming.” 

Hitoshi stared at him. “Those don’t bloom in the fall. They’re spring flowers.” 

“Right.” Harry swallowed. “Well… accidental magic can make flowers bloom.” 

“What the hell?” Hitoshi shut his book and set it aside. “But you guys do that when you’re young, right?”

“Before we’ve begun to train our magic, yes. I think… I think your principal’s wrong and Midoriya might have magic. Or at least latent magic or something? I don’t know. I’m terrible with theory.” 

“Or the flower could just be weird. Who knows? It’s a lot to jump from ‘a flower bloomed out of season’ to ‘Midoriya has magic.’”

“But my wand!” 

“Yeah, I know.” Hitoshi sighed. “We can bring it up to Principal Nezu next time we talk to him, but it’s not an emergency or anything, right? You said accidental magic could be dangerous, but this is just making a flower bloom.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, unsure. “It should be ok? Accidental magic rarely harms anyone unless it’s being used as a defensive mechanism when a child panics or has extreme anger.” Harry didn’t really want to think about Aunt Marge.

“Ok. So we’ll keep watching Midoriya and we’ll talk to Principal Nezu about it again later. _Now_, though, you are going to come sit here and watch this pointless movie with me.”

Harry went over to the bed, picking up the computer to pass it to Hitoshi. “Shouldn’t we wait for Kaminari-kun?”

“Nah, he’s seen it already.” Hitoshi hit play.

Harry groaned as immediately the ‘wizard’ chanted more nonsense. “Spells don’t even rhyme like that!” 

Hitoshi snickered. “They do in this movie. How could you limit their creativity like that, Harry?” 

“But it’s just so _wrong_.” It was even worse than the chants Fred and George had made up and had Ron memorize when he was little.

“Says you.” 

Harry groaned again. Needless to say, it was a long movie. 

It succeeded in being distracting, though. It was hard to think about magical theory when the video in front of you was so blatantly wrong about so many things. 

Kaminari did eventually return, this time with popcorn and Sero, who insisted that he was _not_ watching the crow movie because that was actually good and the alien one was terrible.

Harry didn’t really understand, but he trusted that Kaminari translated whatever had been said correctly. After the movie started, Harry thought he might get it. The alien movie was so bad it was hysterical, and Harry hadn’t laughed this hard in forever. 

Eventually the whole group of friends trickled in, and while Harry’s skin crawled with so many people crammed into such a tight space, he didn’t actually mind all that much. They kept the lights on even late into the night, and Bakugou and Kirishima stayed on the far side of the room where Harry couldn’t really see them, which helped. 

Harry was also pretty sure that there was no way all of them could see Kaminari’s tiny computer screen, but apparently they were picking movies that they all knew because everyone was quoting things and laughing.

It was nice. 

Everyone was happy and relaxed. 

Like they had nothing to worry about.

At some point around nine, though, Bakugou left, dragging Kirishima behind him and yelling at them that they better sleep before school started. 

The others didn’t leave until three in the morning.

Needless to say, they were all exhausted the next day during class. When homeroom started, Aizawa had taken one look at them all and just sighed. 

At lunch, Harry followed the hero to a gym that was set up like some kind of industrial factory. Harry wasn’t sure what exactly it was supposed to be, but he didn’t like it. The forest gyms had been much more relaxing. Either way though, he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to fly a little.

“We’ll be doing combat drills today, so there will probably be a lot of debris around once class starts. Make sure you pay attention and come back up front when Hitoshi and his classmates arrive.” 

Harry’s mind flashed back to Fred, killed by the wall exploding next to him. He swallowed. “Right.” He definitely didn’t want to be caught out in this maze during that. It shouldn’t be an issue, though. Harry had always been able to hear when the students arrived no matter where he was in the other gyms.

With one jump, Harry transformed into a crow and was flying upwards, darting over the buildings and around pipelines. When he thought about this place like an obstacle course, it was actually kind of fun. 

All too soon, however, Harry heard something explode in the distance.

Bloody hell! Already? He hadn’t heard any of them arriving, though! And Harry was on the complete opposite side of the gym.

Brilliant.

Cautiously, Harry flew around the edge, avoiding anywhere he heard loud noises and shouts and—

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Harry crashed into the ground, covering his head with his wings and trying anything to just _make that sound stop—_

And then it was gone. Harry groaned, rolling over in relief. 

What in Merlin’s name had that been?! One of them could make some sort of loud screech?

It didn’t matter. Harry had to get back to the front where Aizawa was. 

Harry sat up, but then froze. 

One of the 3A students was watching him. Toko something? Harry wasn’t sure. The boy’s head was like a bird, which lessened the effect of the red eyes staring at him. 

The boy spoke softly in Japanese, slowly approaching Harry and bending down before setting his arm on the ground in front of him. He wanted Harry to step onto his arm? Well, being carried by a student was probably safer than flying on his own…

Cautiously, Harry stepped put first one foot, then the other on the boy’s outstretched arm.

The boy rose, and Harry flapped his wings, struggling to keep his balance. 

Toko-whatever wasn’t taking him to the front of the gym, though. 

Harry squawked, nodding his head toward where he knew Aizawa was standing. 

Red eyes blinked, then the boy shook his head and muttered something else in Japanese before two fingers ruffled the feathers around Harry’s neck which felt so bloody good. Without thinking, Harry tilted his head to give the boy better access.

Merlin’s beard, Harry never wanted him to stop.

He supposed he could let the boy take him somewhere. He was one of Aizawa’s students, so Harry doubted it was dangerous. Maybe this way was a safer route or something.

He closed his eyes. The boys’ fingers just felt so _good_.

But now the fingers had stopped moving and the boy was talking again. Disoriented, Harry opened his eyes to see that Toko-whatever had taken him to another one of his classmates, though Harry had absolutely no clue what his name was. 

“Hello, little one! How did you get in here?”

Huh?

The guy could talk to him? But Harry was a crow right now! And that definitely hadn’t sounded like English so what in Merlin’s name—

“You must be so confused. Come with me and I’ll take you outside.”

Outside? Harry didn’t want to go outside! But that would take him by the front doors where Aizawa was, right?

Bloody hell, how did birds talk? Harry had never had to talk before! He’d always transformed where there weren’t birds, so he’d never actually tried to communicate ideas. Um.. Open the beak, first, then, “Man.” Harry blinked. Well, that was a start. He had no clue how to do names, though. Maybe, “Tired man.” 

The boy’s head tilted to the side. “You’re a strange one. You want to go see our teacher?”

“Yes!” Harry bobbed his head eagerly. The two boys exchanged a look above him, saying something to each other in Japanese. Then Toko was walking away again, this time heading toward the front of the gym.

Harry relaxed in relief. 

The boy chuckled, petting Harry’s neck again as he said something in Japanese. 

The route they took wasn’t the most direct, but when they finally exited the maze and Harry saw Aizawa, he sprang forward, launching himself off Toko’s arm to fly toward him. 

The hero looked up, barely having a second to register what was happening before Harry landed on his shoulder. 

Aizawa glared at him. 

Toko said something in Japanese, though, distracting the man, who sighed and responded to his student. Then Toko left, disappearing into the industrial maze. 

“I told you to come back here before class started.” 

Even though no one else was in sight, Harry didn’t dare transform back, so he just nodded his head apologetically. 

“What if you had been hit by someone’s quirk? They would just think they’d hit a random bird, not a person. You’re lucky Tokoyami thought to take you to Koda and then was willing to bring you here safely.”

Harry knew that. 

“Don’t take risks like that anymore.”

Annoyed, Harry tugged on the man’s hair, then squawked in surprise when the scarf-thing wound around him to keep him in place on the hero’s shoulder. “You’re staying here for the rest of class so I know you won’t get hurt.”

Bastard. 

Harry couldn’t even open his mouth like this! 

Sure it was dangerous, but other than that blast of sound Harry had been _fine_. He knew how to watch out for himself! Sure it would be a challenge without revealing magic, but Harry could do it.

This was a huge overreaction.

Harry wasn’t weak.

And it wasn’t Aizawa’s job to protect him.

Harry squirmed, but the wrapping didn’t budge. 

He glared at the building in front of them.

Bloody ridiculous. 

And now he had to stay like this the entire class while Aizawa watched some screens that seemed to be showing what the students were doing throughout the gym.

Finally, though, the class was ending and the students were gathering at the front.

Harry glared at Hitoshi, who was smirking at Harry’s predicament.

The two boys from earlier seemed relieved to see him, but everyone else in the class looked confused. As far as Harry could tell, though, Aizawa’s closing remarks didn’t reference him a single time. 

And then the students were gone. 

“You can transform back now. It will be on camera, but Nezu will erase that footage.” 

The bindings slowly fell away and Harry jumped off the man’s shoulder, landing as himself once more, but crouched down on the ground. Harry brushed off his knees as he turned around and glared at the hero. “What in Merlin’s name was that for! I’m sorry for staying out, I know it was dangerous!. I just lost track of time. And I was _fine._ I was being careful on my way back and everything.” 

“Sure you were.” Black eyes stared at him, completely unimpressed. “And that’s why Tokoyami said he found you sprawled on the ground after you’d been hit by one of Jiro’s blasts.”

Harry scowled. “Ok, so I wasn’t expecting whatever sound wave that was. I was still fine. I could have made it back here on my own.” 

“There are plenty of students in the class who can unleash powerful attacks without a moment’s notice. We train them to watch for civilians, but our attacks can’t avoid every animal when we’re on the field.”

“I’m not defenseless!” 

“In that form, you might as well be.” 

“I also have much more maneuverability in that form! I was fine!” 

“Again, you were found on the ground in pain.” 

“I don’t need you to watch out for me!” 

“Too bad. While you’re here, you’re my responsibility.” 

“You’re not actually my guardian!” Harry could feel his nails biting into his palms as he struggled to keep control of his magic. “I’m my own responsibility! I need your signature in order to finish my task, that’s it.”

Aizawa sighed. “While you are at UA, I’m in charge of making sure you don’t get hurt. Putting aside your status as a well-known international figure, UA cannot allow a guest to be hurt on campus.” 

“I wasn’t hu—” Harry’s eyes widened as another wave of heat rushed through him. Bloody hell, now of all times?

“What’s wrong?” All anger had left Aizawa’s voice in an instant, but that just made Harry more annoyed.

He didn’t need some adult looking after him. 

Aizawa wasn’t Sirius. 

“Nothing new. I’m dealing with it.” 

“Right.” Aizawa frowned, still watching him cautiously. “Is this why you’ve been reading so much? You’ve seemed more like the learn-by-doing type than a voracious reader, yet the past few days you’ve hardly had your head out of a book.” 

Blacks always were annoyingly good at putting observations together. “Yes, but it’s nothing you can help with.” 

The man sighed. “And what if whatever this is had happened while you were out there trying to avoid my students?”

“I would have been fine. It’s nothing painful; it caught me off guard just then, that’s all.” Harry crossed his arms, glaring at the ground. 

He was fine on his own. 

“Alright.” The man rubbed at the back of his neck, pausing in thought before he sighed again and spoke. “Look, I need you to understand that even if you can handle yourself in a battle, if you get hurt here I’ll be the one that’s blamed for it. Because of that, as well as for your own well-being, I would appreciate it if you were more cautious.”

Harry frowned. He supposed that was understandable, even if he didn’t like it. “I underestimated how badly sound would carry in this gym. It won’t happen again. I really was fine, though. It just disoriented me.” 

“That’s good. You don’t need to see Recovery Girl then?”

“Recovery Girl?”

“Our nurse.” 

Oh. The weird hero names again. “No.” Harry shook his head. “I’m fine.” 

“If you’re sure…” Aizawa stared at him for a few seconds, as if trying to judge if Harry really was fine, then added. “If you need my help with anything related to what you’re researching, let me know.” 

Right. As if Aizawa could help with that. “I _need_ your signature.” Harry scowled at the man. He didn’t care about protection or research help! He came here for one thing only.

Another sigh. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. At this point I trust that you aren’t trying to trick us and do actually need my help for something related to the family, but having you here also helps us have a connection between Principal Nezu and the officials who are working on finding this girl. It’s not like the enclaves use cell phones.” 

“Nezu-san can use the envelope himself, though. I’m not needed for that. If you trust me, please sign them. It won’t take long and then I can destroy those things.” 

Black eyes stared at him. “All you need is my signature? That doesn’t seem like something your type would do.” 

Harry winced. “Ok, so I would actually need you to come with me to our bank to sign—”

“No.”

“Come on!” Harry glared at him. “I need to destroy the artifacts _your family_ made to hurt people who are like you! Why won’t you help me?”

“I’m not going there.” 

Harry scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’d stay by your side the entire time. You’d be safe.”

“Right. Because you’re not ever in danger there. You’ve said it yourself: you’ve hidden and avoided everyone in the enclaves ever since you won that war, and there are some of that man’s followers still out there. The second you reappear they’re likely to attack you.” 

“They won’t attack in broad daylight like that, it would be suicide!” Bloody paranoid Blacks! “And if I actually thought something like that would work, I’d be in England right now, roaming the countryside and setting myself up as bait so we could find more information out and help this girl.” 

“You are _not_ doing that.” 

“Like you could stop me!” Harry forced his magic down, refusing to let it spiral out of control. “I know it wouldn’t work, ok? I’m not an idiot. Whoever’s doing this has a plan or the girl would have been found dead by now. They’re not likely to be sidetracked by bait, even if my presence would be tempting. Plus my sudden appearance would be suspicious.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad you’ve thought through it.” 

“Mostly to figure out if I could convince myself it would help, but yeah. It doesn’t make sense for me to leave. Not without you.”

Aizawa grimaced. “I’m relatively defenseless in the enclave. I’d have my knives and capture weapon, but my quirk would be useless. The last thing I want to do is walk into that kind of situation, especially when I know the people around me aren’t likely to be inclined to like me.”

“You would be safe, I promise.” How could Harry convince him? “You could bring Yamada-san or Hitoshi if that would help—they’re both related to you, so they’re technically part of the House of Black as well, even if not by blood, which is what matters for the inheritance spell.” Aizawa had preferred that option before, so maybe it would work now? 

Aizawa frowned, rubbing at the back of his neck again. “I’ll talk to ‘Zashi about it, ok? And that’s all you would need? For me to go to the enclave’s bank and sign some forms?”

Time to explain that process in more depth, Harry supposed. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “And your blood. Just a little bit, though! A few drops would be enough.” 

Aizawa gave him an unimpressed look. “And you were planning on telling me this when?”

“It’s standard practice for family documents in the magical world, alright? It’s a quick way to ensure there’s no one impersonating you and that you are in fact part of the family.” 

“I thought you said that using blood for magic was illegal now.” 

“Using human blood for spells and potions and such, yes. This is just for verifying your identity.” 

Aizawa stared at him. “You genuinely think there’s a difference between those things.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Ok. Say there is a difference, then. How do I know they won’t use my blood for one of those other things once I’ve provided it for verification?”

“The goblins wouldn’t do that.”

“Goblins.” Aizawa looked so incredulous, it was hard not to laugh. Harry kept a straight face, though. He could remember when the idea had seemed foreign to him, as well.

“They run our banks.” 

“And you trust them?”

“Not really, no. And they don’t particularly like me after I stole something from the bank during the war…” Harry probably shouldn’t get side-tracked with that story, though. Focus on explaining the goblins. “The goblins have a strict honor code. They wouldn’t do anything beyond the exact parameters that they’ve stated.” 

“Right.” Aizawa sighed. “I’ll definitely be needing to look at those documents you brought, then.” 

Harry grinned. “Ok!” 

“I’m not promising anything.” 

“I know, but this is a start!” 

Aizawa was going to read the documents. He’d see that there was nothing suspicious, and then Harry would be able to go back home and destroy the Black artifacts.

Harry should be thrilled. 

He _was_ thrilled. 

So why did he also feel dread?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!! Lots of plot developments this time :D If you haven't noticed, I changed the chapter titles so they all follow a quote theme and added the number of chapters I plan on having. Hard to believe we're getting fairly close to the end! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other and have writing and art challenges, too :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I keep people updated there about what I'm working on and post scene previews, and there’s also some awesome fan art of Zero there, as well :) https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	14. When We Look Upon Death and Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: After his PTSD flashback at the Halloween party, Harry tries to avoid the 1A kids. The aurors capture Jugson and learn that the little girl has a quirk that can destroy magic. To help distract Harry, Hitoshi and the bakusquad have a movie marathon of bad movies. Harry is hit by a blast of sound during heroics class (he is a crow at the time) and Tokoyami takes him back to Aizawa, who expresses his concern for Harry's safety. Aizawa then agrees to look over the documents from Gringotts.

Aizawa was taking forever to look over the documents. 

Harry knew the goblins worded things in odd ways to confuse people, but it had almost been a whole week now! How long could it take the man to look through five pages?

And meanwhile whatever was going on with Harry’s magic was getting worse. Now he had something like five heat surges a day. 

Harry didn’t know what was going on. 

At least the heat surges rarely happened at night, though. Or if they did, they never woke him up.

Aizawa kept wanting him to go see their nurse, but Harry refused. He had a magical core! What if this woman could somehow sense that? Who knew what her quirk could do. 

No, he had to figure this out on his own. 

Harry sighed, reaching over to pick up the next book from Hitoshi’s desk, but a second later Hitoshi’s phone started buzzing on his bed.

Immediately the other boy abandoned his homework to pick it up. “Principal Nezu?” 

Purple eyes widened as he listened, and Harry watched with baited breath. They’d told the principal about Midoriya, but he hadn’t seemed too concerned. Had he thought of something else? 

Hitoshi thanked the principal, then hung up.

“The cameras have sighted another death eater. It’s in a different area, but not too far from the park, and it’s the guy that the other one said knew about the girl.” 

Harry scrambled to pull the envelop out of the drawer, quickly writing out a message that Nezu had seen the last of the three death eaters, Rookwood, and the rest of what Hitoshi had said. “Do we have an address? Any other details?”

Harry copied down the address as Hitoshi recited it, then slid the paper into the envelope. 

This was it.

The British aurors would get together a team and send them out to rescue the girl. 

And Harry had to stay here.

His hands clenched at his sides.

He hated this. 

He should be there! He should be in England where he could actually help, not here monitoring a portkey envelop that Hitoshi or Nezu or someone else could just as easily watch.

But he couldn’t risk using an international portkey again until he was sure it wouldn’t make whatever was going on with his magic worse. Or until Aizawa would just agreed to sign the documents already. 

Harry yanked the closest book toward him and flipped it open to the table of contents. Yelling at Aizawa wasn’t likely to accomplish anything, so he had to focus on finding the problem with his magic first. 

But why in Merlin’s name did Hermione think a book about magical allergies would be helpful? 

Harry wasn’t allergic to anything! He didn’t even know you _could_ be magically allergic to something, but weren’t allergies more of a constant thing than an occasional thing?

He had to make sure before he crossed it off the list, though. 

Sighing, Harry started to read, doing his best to ignore the vibrating phone behind him that meant Hitoshi was either texting his family, Kaminari, or maybe Midoriya. While Hitoshi seemed to be on good terms with his whole class, he didn’t actively interact with all of his classmates. 

After half an hour spent making sure that magical allergies were an actual dead end, Harry grabbed the next book. 

He stared.

Wards. 

Why had Hermione sent one on wards? Harry wasn’t keyed into any like Dumbledore had been, so—

Wait. 

Grimmauld Place.

Was Harry in charge of the wards there? Well, the family wards, not the fidelius, he knew he wasn’t the secret keeper for that. But there had to be other wards right? The Blacks would have had some. 

Harry quickly pulled the book toward him, leafing through pages to find the sections on family wards. 

_Each pureblood family has developed wards around their estates to warn them of any approaching threats. These wards’ abilities differ per family and are tied to the family’s male patriarch, warning him typically through a physical sensation such as shocks, coldness, warmth, or—_

Was Harry the male patriarch? He was the heir, but he wasn’t able to access even the vaults… but if there was no other magical person older than him… Bloody hell! Had Sirius ever mentioned what the wards felt like? Harry couldn’t remember.

Harry grabbed a piece of parchment, about to write a note asking Hermione to go to Grimmauld and look for books or something about the Black wards, but then he paused. Would she even have time? They had to handle the mission for the little Bailey girl. But this could be why his magic was acting up! Harry had to know. If it was the wards—

“Harry? You ok?”

Harry turned to see Hitoshi staring at him, purple eyes concerned. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” He looked back at the book. “I think this might have the answer to what’s going on with my magic? It’s a possibility at least, but there are too many things I don’t know, so I can’t be sure.” And how in Merlin’s name could someone attack the wards at Grimmauld when it was underneath the fidelius? That didn’t even make sense.

Maybe this was really just another dead end, after all. He shouldn’t make Hermione stress about it.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, annoyed. 

“Could you ask for another book on it when she has the chance?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Harry sighed, picking up the pencil once more. “There are definitely details that don’t make sense, but—” 

A knock on the door jarred him from his thoughts, and Harry quickly flipped the paper over and tucked the envelope back into a drawer before Hitoshi called out, “Come in.” 

The door opened and Aizawa came inside silently, making Harry sigh in relief, turning around in his chair to face the man. 

“Sorry it’s taken so long.” Aizawa held out a folder toward Harry. “I wanted to make sure that I’d thought of everything and needed to talk it over with ‘Zashi.” 

Harry’s eyes widened and he quickly reached out to grab the folder. Aizawa was finally done? He’d read them?!

The man sighed. “I’ll help. It’s clear you aren’t lying to us or untrustworthy. And I do want to destroy anything those people left behind, especially if it could be dangerous to someone else.” 

“Then…” Did that really mean what Harry thought it meant?! “You’ll come back with me to England?”

Aizawa nodded. “With some conditions, yes. It’s not like I have any reason to deny you from accessing vaults or properties that I can’t even enter.”

“Name them.” Whatever it was, Harry would do it. He had to make sure Death Eaters didn’t get ahold of anything potentially dangerous, especially since one of the Death Eaters had kidnapped that poor girl. Wait. “Properties?”

Aizawa stared at him. “Yes? That’s what the documents list.”

Harry immediately looked down and flipped through the papers to where they discussed the Black assets. 

There. 

Five houses.

The Blacks didn’t just own Grimmauld Place.

Of course they didn’t! They had been a large family. How had Harry not thought of this? There were _four other properties_. That meant four other homes that were probably surrounded by Black wards! What if _that_ was what Harry had been feeling?! It didn’t make sense for anyone to be attacking the wards at Grimmauld, not with the fidelius in place, but if there were other properties—

“You think of something?” Harry looked up to see both Aizawa and Hitoshi watching him with confusion. 

“Yes! If there are multiple properties that means there are other wards, which means that those might be what’s causing my magic to flare up, but I don’t—” 

Harry flipped back through the document. Patriarchal authority, patriarchal authority where was it?! The goblins had talked about what he was and wasn’t able to do right now, so surely there was something that outlined—

Found it!

Harry quickly skimmed over the page. In the lack of a Head of House, all properties were owned by the heir unless ceded to another. The heir could enter any property using his own means, but could not request a forced entry until he was of age or the oldest male ceded authority. In the event of the sudden death of the Head of House, the wards would transfer to the next eligible person capable of maintaining them, etc., etc.

Which… 

since Aizawa had no magic to maintain them, meaning they couldn’t transfer to him…

it had to mean Harry.

Right?

Harry stared at the documents.

The Black wards were probably attached to him. 

The Blacks had warded other properties besides Grimmauld. 

But did that mean that the heat flashes were the wards?

It was at least the strongest theory he had so far. “I think my magic is tied to the Black wards.” 

“And that means…?” Hitoshi’s voice was thick with sarcasm. “A little help for the people who know nothing about magic here.” 

Harry ran his hand though his hair, trying to figure out how to even explain this. “I don’t really know that much about wards, either, and it seems like they are in large part different for each family. If I’m correct, though, then these heat flashes are the wards trying to get my attention. Someone is trying to break through.” 

Aizawa was frowning now. “Then what do you need to do?”

“The only way to know for sure would be to determine how the Black wards operate, which is information passed down from within the family. It’s probably written down somewhere at Grimmauld, I hope, but I’ve never seen it. I also didn’t really go looking for it, though.” He’d never even thought about it—not since the place was safe under the fidelius.

Aizawa sighed. “Well. I suppose that brings us back to the beginning of the conversation, then. I’ll go with you to England, but only if Mic comes with me and we go on a Friday and are back by Monday. That should give us more than enough time to visit a bank, and students are used to us occasionally missing one day for missions and won’t think anything of it.” 

“Of course!” Harry didn’t mind that at all! He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Can we go tomorrow?” Harry couldn’t believe he was going to be back in England. He might even be able to help find the little girl, if they needed him!

Aizawa nodded. “I assumed you would want that.” 

“I’m coming with you.” Hitoshi’s voice was determined.

“No.” 

Well. That was shot down quickly. 

Hitoshi crossed his arms, his jaw set in a stubborn line. “With all due respect, if your excuse for your absence is that you’re on a mission, it would raise questions if I’m not with you on a long mission like that. I’m your intern.”

Aizawa shook his head. “Hitoshi, people there don’t have quirks. Your hair and eyes would mark you right away as someone who doesn’t belong. It’s too dangerous.” 

“Then I’ll dye my hair and wear contacts! It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“Umm…” Harry wasn’t sure if he should be part of this, but he couldn’t help but add, “Actually I can change his hair and eye color really easily. It would fall apart in Gringotts because they have wards against disguises, but the goblins wouldn’t care about someone being non-magical.” 

“Still no.” Aizawa shook his head. “Just tell everyone I asked you to take care of Eri-chan.” 

“But Midnight can do that!” 

“Hitoshi.” Aizawa was frowning now, “We’re entering a situation with a lot of unknowns and I just want you to be safe, ok?”

Hitoshi’s expression became even more determined. “Eraserhead, please think about this as my supervising hero and not as my Dad. I’ve been reading all of Harry’s books about the magical world and know more than either one of you. No one there expects my quirk, so I could control someone easily if we needed me to. I can help.” 

“You’ve told me your quirk is illegal there. If you used it, you could wind up in prison over a misunderstanding. It’s more of a liability than an asset.” 

“I’d only use it if necessary, but it would be stupid to ignore it as an option, especially when Harry could vouch for me that it’s not the same as what they do.” 

“Still, this place is dangerous, and if—”

“Which is exactly why I should come!” 

Aizawa sighed, rubbing at his forehead. A tense silence filled the room and the two stared at each other. Finally Aizawa’s shoulders sagged. “Fine. But you obey my commands while we’re there. Treat it as a mission.” 

“Yes!” Hitoshi was grinning now.

Aizawa ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “I’ll have Mic pick up some hair dye for you and bring it later tonight. Since we’re short on time, sunglasses will have to do instead of contacts.” Aizawa paused, then turned toward Harry, “That should work, right? Or do you not wear sunglasses there and have something else?”

“That’ll be fine. Some people wear robes and other clothing, but many just wear the same as muggles. And the bank wards are only against magical charms and such; they don’t affect physical alterations.” Which Harry only remembered because that was why the polyjuice potion had worked. Thank Merlin Hermione knew the magical theory that he and Ron had never bothered to learn. Wait. “Hitoshi should wear a hat or something, too.” 

Hitoshi blinked, clearly confused. “A hat? But I’m dying my hair.” 

How should Harry explain this? “Your hair is really umm… poofy? It’s cool, but we don’t have a lot of different ethnicities in the enclaves or anything, so our hair is all pretty um… straight or wavy and all hangs down like Aizawa-san’s. Basically, since we don’t have quirks, hair only does what it used to in pre-quirk eras.” 

Hitoshi stared at him. “Weird.” The purple-haired boy shrugged. “I guess mine would act like that if I grew it out long enough.” 

“I’m not sure if the hair-growth potion would work on you, so a hat would probably be best.” Harry grinned at Hitoshi’s disgruntled expression.

“Nope. Not happening.” Hitoshi wrinkled his nose. “I know what you people put in those potions and there is no way you’re ever getting me to drink one of those things.” 

Harry laughed. “You get used to it, but they really do taste disgusting.”

“I don’t even want to know.” Aizawa sighed. “Is there anything we should or shouldn’t bring?”

“Electronics.” Hitoshi grimaced again, and Harry shrugged apologetically, “The portkey will probably fry anything electronic, so it would be best to just leave your phones and everything here. We can give the envelope to Principal Nezu so that he can still reach us if necessary.” 

Aizawa nodded. “Alright. I assume we should wear civilian gear? Will my capture weapon raise suspicions?”

“I can cast a spell on it to make it less noticeable. Again, that spell won’t work in Gringotts, but it shouldn’t matter there. And yeah, civilian clothing would be best. I can spell your clothes to make them cut resistant and probably anything else you want, but we don’t have outfits like your hero costumes in the enclaves.” 

Aizawa nodded. “Will the defensive spells falter in the bank?”

Harry shook his head. “The wards only destroy disguise spells.” 

“Alright.” Aizawa looked between the two of them, his eyes pausing longer on Hitoshi. “We’ll probably have more questions once we arrive, but for now that’s it. Sleep in tomorrow and meet us in Nezu’s office at noon—it will still be a long day since Japan’s time zone is so far ahead of England.” 

“Understood.” Hitoshi nodded, and Harry agreed.

“I’ll see you two then. Text me if you have any questions or if something else comes up.”

“Of course, Dad.” Hitoshi nodded again, still smiling a little since he was allowed to come. 

And then Aizawa was leaving. 

Harry stared at the door as it shut, still a little in shock.

He’d done it. 

Aizawa had said he would got to Gringotts and sign the documents.

Harry was going back to England.

Once the documents were signed, Harry would be able to check on the Black properties and vaults. 

He could destroy the artifacts and make sure that no one ever used them again.

Harry wouldn’t be in Japan anymore. After all, finding all the dark artifacts in the Black family’s possession could easily take a year and then who knows what Harry would need to do or what Hermione or the Weasleys or Shacklebolt or McGonagall would need and—

“Harry?”

Harry flinched at the sound of his name.

“You ok? You looked like you were about to start hyperventilating or something.” 

Hyperventilating? 

Harry blinked, confused. He… his heart was beating fast, actually. But why? It’s not like he’d been thinking of anything particularly stressful. He _wanted_ to be able to help everyone back in England. There were so many things that needed to be done! And by the time he’d finished dealing with the Black artifacts and properties and such, Harry was sure he’d be better and hopefully people wouldn’t freak out as much whenever he appeared.

“Harry?”

Oh. Right. Hitoshi was asking about him. “I’m fine.” 

That earned a scoff. “Right. Tell that to someone who will believe you.” 

Harry shrugged, refusing to look at the other boy. Who knows what Hitoshi would be able to notice if Harry made eye contact. “I was thinking about everything that still needs to be done back home, that’s all. The war left everything in ruins. Our school, our government… everything. Merlin, even the bank’s roof was destroyed, though that was my fault and the goblin’s have fixed it now.”

Harry could practically feel Hitoshi’s incredulous stare. “You destroyed the roof of the bank?”

“We had to break in to steal something from one of the vaults. One of the Black vaults, actually.” Harry laughed at the irony. If all went well, tomorrow he would legally own everything in Bellatrix’s vault. “The goblins don’t like me very much, by the way. They won’t let it affect business or anything, but I’m definitely one of their least favorite people.” Harry sighed. Dealing with the goblins had been difficult before the war, but afterwards it had become downright ridiculous.

“Ok… good to know, I guess.” Hitoshi was leaning back against the wall now, still watching Harry. “What are the goblins like?”

“Umm…. Bloodthirsty?”

“Oh that sounds pleasant.” 

Harry laughed. He would miss Hitoshi’s snark. “They aren’t, believe me. They’re incredibly intelligent and talented craftsmen, but they also hate humans in general and are obsessed with honor and profit.” Harry shrugged, “We don’t have the best relationship with them to begin with, honestly, and I’ve never really been the best at paying attention in history class.”

“And they’re your bankers?!”

Harry shrugged again. “It’s always been that way. Wizards can’t trust each other with their most valuable possessions, so we go to a neutral party. It works out well enough.” Well, if you ignored all the goblin wars and rebellions. Harry didn’t even no where to begin with describing those, though. He had no clue what would make wizard/goblin tensions smooth over, but Harry definitely wasn’t the right person to work on that problem given their hatred of him. 

“The more you explain about this place, the more you make me wonder why you want to go back.” 

Harry’s head shot up. “Or course I want to go back!” 

Calm purple eyes studied him. “I didn’t say otherwise. I said I don’t understand why.” 

Harry frowned, looking off to the side. “I fought for them. I can’t just leave them. There’s still things that need to be done.” 

Hitoshi sighed, standing up from his bed and grabbing his backpack next to the desk. “I know you fought to protect them all from this guy and his followers, and I’m not trying to belittle that or anything. It’s just…” Hitoshi paused, frowning as he pulled his textbooks out of the bag and set them on his desk. “Heroes fight and risk our lives to save people, too. But in our private lives we have a space that’s our own where we can escape from the high-stress situations of our jobs. You, however, had that stress twenty-four seven, and it sounds like you _still_ don’t have anything that’s your own. Every time you talk about going back it’s about what you need to do for others, not yourself. That can’t be healthy for you, especially over years like this.” 

“So what if it’s stressful?” Harry glared at Hitoshi. “I’ve managed. And it is better now. I’m not constantly afraid for my life or anything like that.”

“Right.” Hitoshi sighed, then turned and stepped over Harry’s futon to take his now empty backpack over to his closet. He paused, thinking, then added, “It’s kind of that whole ‘I’ve managed’ attitude that has me worried, you know. You hid in your house for over a month because you were mobbed whenever you stepped outside. How exactly is that not stressful?” 

“I said less stressful, not that it wasn’t stressful at all.” Harry frowned, annoyed with the whole conversation. What did Hitoshi know about it? War and hero work were different things.

“Sorry.” 

Harry looked over to see Hitoshi rubbing at the back of his neck. “I pushed too much, didn’t I?”

Harry frowned. “Maybe.”

The other boy sighed. “I just hate seeing you stressed about returning to your own home. You should be happy, but when Dad left you looked more like a soldier preparing for battle than a kid going home. And we were just talking about visiting a bank!” Hitoshi shook his head, “I know it’s your home, but you don’t exactly talk about it fondly.”

Harry blinked. He didn’t? “But I love Hogwarts.” 

“Ok, you love the school.” Hitoshi paused, grabbing a shirt from his closet and folding it before shoving it into the backpack. “But you’re not going back to the school, right? You said you’d graduated.” 

Well technically he hadn’t because of the war… but Harry didn’t really want to go back to classes in the hallways where he’d had to fight for his life.

Bloody hell. 

Was even Hogwarts ruined for him, now? 

Fred had died there. Remus and Tonks, too. And Lavender Brown and Colin Creevery and so many others. Before it had been bad enough with just Cedric, but now…

Hitoshi slid a knife into his backpack, then turned back to Harry. “Just… know that you don’t have to stay there if you don’t want to, alright? Dad’s not the type to say it, but I know he’d actually like it if you returned to Japan after dealing with this. He has us, sure, but his extended family is practically nonexistent. He’s liked finally learning about that side of his family, even if he still hates most of them.” 

“What?!” Stay? No. No.. That… that was never an option. He was happy to meet Aizawa and everyone sure, and he might visit them one summer, but to actually stay? No. He couldn’t. “I belong in England. They need me there.” 

Hitoshi snorted, dropping another knife into the bag. “Right. Because you haven’t done enough for them already.” Hitoshi held his hands up as Harry opened his mouth to protest. “I know, I know. You like it there somehow. Just thought you should know that you have options, that’s all.” 

Options.

No one had ever given him _options_. Harry didn’t even know how to react to that. He’d always done what was best to defeat Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Always. 

But now Voldemort was gone and the Death Eaters were dwindling… Harry shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts from his mind. “I’m going to go take a shower.” 

“Alright, I’ll probably join you in there once Pop brings the hair dye.” 

Oh, right. Harry supposed it made sense that Hitoshi would need to do that in the bathroom. Harry had never seen anyone use muggle hair dye before. “Will you need help?”

“Nah, Ki will help me. You focus on trying to get some sleep tonight.”

“Alright.” Harry shrugged, then headed toward the showers. 

He was going back to England.

This would be his last time using these showers, which was odd to think about. He’d grown used to UA and all its oddities over the past month or so. 

He’d miss it. 

The only place he’d ever thought that he would miss was Hogwarts, but this place had only ever tried to help him, which… yeah, Harry really wasn’t used to that. 

Sure Principal Nezu did everything for his own reasons like Dumbledore had, but for the most part everyone here had been kind to Harry even though they knew nothing about him.

It had been refreshing.

Not once had someone asked about his lightning bolt scar. It was weird. Even when Yamada had noticed the scars on Harry’s hands, they hadn’t commented about the one on his forehead. 

Scars were just a normal part of life here.

Harry sighed, tilting his head back to let the water run through his hair. 

Just because it was nice here didn’t mean that he could leave the British enclave like that, though. He still had friends and responsibilities back home. 

That had been the whole point of coming here in the first place, after all. 

Harry turned the water off and was surprised to hear voices talking softly outside. It sounded like Hitoshi and Kaminari. Had Yamada already brought the hair dye for Hitoshi?

Harry pulled the dry towel off the door and wrapped it around himself, then stepped outside. Sure enough, Kaminari was outside, sitting by the bath and pouting as his gloved fingers smoothed dye throughout his boyfriend’s hair. 

Hitoshi looked odd with black hair, and Harry found himself missing the purple. The black just looked… wrong. 

“If you’re heading back to the room, feel free to turn off the lights. I’ve already packed up everything I’ll need.” 

Right. He was supposed to head to bed after the shower. “Alright, thanks.” Harry nodded to his roommate, then slipped into the front area of the baths to dry off and put on clothes. 

Harry had kept everything in his trunk, so it wasn’t like he needed to pack. He really could just go straight to bed… unless there was anything else in that book on wards? But it hadn’t seemed to know anything…

Harry didn’t want to go to sleep. 

His brain flashed back to all the lonely nights at Grimmauld with only Kreacher for company…

He didn’t want to go back to that, but he also didn’t think he could stand the busyness of the Burrow. Maybe he could now, though? Or maybe he could just spend the night there…. No, that would make Mrs. Weasley worried. 

Harry frowned as he walked back down the hallway, his eyes pausing on Todoroki’s doorway. He never had figured out what was going on with Midoriya, but it probably wasn’t his business anyway. Midoriya was far older than eleven. Whatever was going on, surely the enclave had already contacted him? Harry was probably just reading into everything too much.

Harry slipped into Hitoshi’s room, placing his toiletries in the trunk and quickly using a spell to dry his hair since no one else was around. Harry’s hand paused on the lid, rubbing across the smooth, familiar surface. 

Between Hogwarts and living on the run, he’d practically lived out of this trunk since he was eleven.

Harry had always preferred the enclaves. 

He had left the Dursleys and never looked back. Harry couldn’t imagine anything else, even if summers at Hogwarts had been lonely, though less than Grimmauld since the muggleborn students had been there. 

Harry shook his head.

He was just thinking too much, that was all.

He’d be back in England tomorrow, they’d go to Gringotts, and everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title's a bit foreboding, but I couldn't think of anything better, sorry. Hope y'all enjoyed it!!! As always, thanks so much for all the comments and kudos! It's hard to believe there's just 3 chapters left! Though each of those will definitely be longer than this one. I've already written the full draft of the next chapter and 3/4 of the last two, so the last few chapters should be updated faster than I have been before. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other and have writing and art challenges, too :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I keep people updated there about what I'm working on and post scene previews, and there’s also some awesome fan art of Zero there, as well :) https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	15. It Matters Not What Someone Is Born

“Crookshanks.”

Immediately the portkey’s familiar tug pulled Harry away from Nezu’s office, three hands tightening on his arms in order to keep from being torn away. 

Harry hated it. Hated the pressure against his skin, the feeling like someone was holding on in order to pursue him to his next location, but it was just Aizawa, Yamada, and Hitoshi. It was fine. They had to hold onto him.

But unlike the usual five seconds or so, the minutes stretched on and they kept being hurled sideways at lightning speed, tossed every which way. Harry’s stomach scream in protest until he thought he was going to hurl.

And then they landed.

Harry barely registered that they were in Grimmauld’s drawing room, instead groaning and leaning against the back of the couch in front of him as he clutched his stomach. 

Hitoshi was on the ground, holding his own stomach as well, while the two adults were leaning against each other. Aizawa sent Harry a half-hearted glare. “A little bit of warning would have been nice.” 

Harry slowly stood, moving away from the couch. “That was a lot worse than normal, sorry. I’ve never taken a portkey internationally like that.” 

The three stared at him. “Then how did you get to Japan?”

“I flew on an airplane.” Wasn’t that obvious? Harry was pretty sure he’d mentioned flying to get there… And it’s not like he’d known Aizawa was in Japan when he first left the enclaves.

“You, Mr. I-Hate-Crowds, flew on an airplane.” Hitoshi stared at Harry incredulously from where he was lying on the carpet. “Do you even have a passport?”

“I transfigured one and put some spells on it to make people not pay close attention, plus I can become invisible, so it wasn’t too hard… I did buy a ticket and everything, promise, I didn’t just take someone’s seat! And sure, the airport was hellish, but I took a potion and slept for the whole plain ride.” 

Aizawa was rubbing at his forehead. “Do you have _any_ non-magical legal documents or identification?”

“Um… no?” The Dursleys probably had something, but it’s not like Harry wanted to go back there, and they’d probably destroyed it after he left.

Hitoshi started laughing. 

Aizawa was looking at the ceiling as if questioning every aspect of wizarding society.

Yamada sighed and shook his head, “Why don’t we fix that at some point, alright little listener?”

Harry shrugged. It wasn’t like it mattered. 

Yamada dropped his bag onto a chair, his green eyes evaluating the room and lingering on the doorway and the two windows that showed a random forest. “So this is a wizard’s house?”

“Right.” Harry supposed Grimmauld was grand in its own way, but to him it had always just been stuffy and miserable. “Um, Welcome to Grimmauld Place, I guess. It’s dark and depressing, but it doesn’t have anything dangerous anymore; I’ve already destroyed everything like that here.”

“They liked to keep the black theme going, apparently.” Hitoshi put one hand on the coffee table, using it to push himself up. 

“Yeah.” Harry sighed. “They’ve always been a melodramatic and pessimistic lot.”

Yamada laughed. “Doesn’t sound like anyone I know at all.” 

Aizawa gave his husband a half-hearted glare and began to circle the room. “I’m a realist, not a pessimist. And I’m not melodramatic.” 

Hitoshi snorted. “Sure, Dad.” 

Aizawa ignored him, his footsteps halting in front of the family tapestry on the far wall. “I take it this is the family tree.” 

“It is.” Harry rubbed at the back of his head. “Of course, the Black heads of house had a tendency to turn anyone they didn’t like into a scorch mark.”

“Scorch marks?”

“They banished them from the family. I don’t know why all of them were banished, but Andromeda was for marrying a muggle. Sirius wasn’t technically banished, but his mother still burnt his face off the family tree. Then Sirius assumed lordship and banished all the members that were death eaters after he escaped from prison.”

“Prison?!” Yamada’s head whipped to the side and he stared at Harry, his glasses sliding forward in shock. 

Oops. Had Harry really never mentioned that before? “It’s a long story, but Sirius was framed for my parents’ deaths. It’s why I grew up outside the enclaves instead of here with him.” Though now that Harry knew the Blacks still had other properties, he wondered if Sirius would have taken him to one of those instead of Grimmauld.

Not that it mattered any more. 

Harry swallowed, fingers reaching out to trace where Sirius’ name and picture had once been. 

“My mother isn’t here.” 

Bloody hell. Harry looked over to where the Black sisters were, and sure enough, there were only three—Andromida, Narcissa, and Bellatrix. Harry hadn’t even bothered to check before he left. “The names and images must be tied to our magic somehow. The Blacks were purists like that.” 

Hitoshi had come over to stand next to Harry, his eyes scanning across the tapestry. “Where are you?”

Harry wrinkled his nose, but pointed above the doorframe. “I appeared once I became the official heir. Technically I _am_ a Black through my grandmother, but she married into the Potter family and her son was the Potter heir, so my father never appeared on the Black tapestry. The branches connect me back to my grandmother, though.”

It was odd looking at the tapestry now. Since Andromeda had been reinstated, Tonks’ picture had emerged, and Remus’ name was next to hers, with little Teddy’s name on a branch that was slowly growing underneath theirs. 

“Is there a Potter one that you’re also on, then?” Harry blinked, turning to look at Hitoshi. 

A Potter tapestry? He’d never thought about it. “I don’t know anything about the Potter family. Everything’s stored in the Potter vaults, but I haven’t had time to go through those records yet. They practiced light magic as a family, so it hasn’t been as pressing of an issue.” 

“Speaking of that—No one’s been here while you’ve been gone, right?” Harry turned to see Yamada standing by the fireplace, looking between his finger and the mantel with a frown. “I can’t tell if anything has been disturbed because there’s no dust here. Is that because of a spell?” 

Ah. He hadn’t explained that, had he? “About that…” Harry rubbed at the back of his neck uneasily. “Wizarding homes typically have beings called House Elves that take care of the estate and its inhabitants.” 

“House elves?”

“They’re elves that take care of homes?” It was probably just better to show them. “Kreacher!” 

Immediately the house elf appeared, causing the other three to jump. “Master Potter has returned.” Sharp eyes took in the new arrivals, his expression curious as he stared at Aizawa. “And he has brought… guests?” Harry nodded, and the house elf continued, “Will the guests be needing anything?”

Hitoshi was staring at house elf, eyes wide in surprise, while Yamada was tucking a knife back into his sleeve and Aizawa’s expression remained blank.

“They will be staying one the second floor with me. Before you prepare the rooms, though, do you remember the Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix’s oldest sister?”

The house elf nodded, his eyes never leaving Aizawa. “Mistress Melanippe. The lost child.” 

“Lost?” Did Kreacher not know about her quirk?

“According to the Black family, yes.” 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, according to the family? What do you know, Kreacher?”

Kreacher frowned. “Mistress Melanippe had strange magic that the family did not understand. They made foul, ignorant plans.” 

What in Merlin’s name…? “Kreacher, what happened to Melanippe? Do you know?” Merlin’s beard, Harry _knew_ house elves often spied on their families. Why hadn’t he asked Kreacher about this before he left? Aizawa had said a family member had helped his mother escape. But if the Black family had thought she was lost, then—

“She was a child. The Black’s future.” 

Bloody hell, why was Kreacher being stubborn again! Harry thought they’d worked past that after he destroyed Regulus’ amulet. “Kreacher, I order you to tell me what happened to Melanippe.” 

Kreacher frowned. “The masters were hurting the young mistress’s magic. Shackles took her where no one would find her. Mistress was angry.”

“Shackles?” Harry winced at Yamada’s horrified voice. The Blacks had made their opinions on house elves pretty clear through their names. 

Kreacher nodded. “Shackles was one of the Black house elves. I have not seen her since she was given to Mistress Bellatrix Lestrange at her wedding.” 

Knowing Bellatrix, the poor elf was probably dead then. Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “What do you mean Shackles took her where no one would find her?”

Kreacher frowned, his eyes growing defiant. “We serve and protect _all_ the Black family.” 

Harry took a deep breath. He wished Kreacher had been half as loyal to Sirius, but he knew Kreacher thought that Sirius had betrayed the family first. If Melanippe had never done such a betrayal, though… had the house elves helped her? “I’m not angry about this, Kreacher. I just want to understand the past.” 

The house elf stared at him for a few seconds, his ears flattened close to his skull. Finally, he nodded. “There is a muggle town called Buttonoak nearby Wyre Forest. Shackles had accompanied Master Alphard there one summer. House elves can apparate beyond magic wards, so it was easy to take the child to the muggle town. Shackles told me she put the young mistress in a warm building with a tall tower, then waited until a woman in black robes found her. Once the young mistress was safe, Shackles came back.”

Bloody hell. A house elf was why Melanippe had survived. Had she been too young to remember the creatures? Or had she just told Aizawa it had been a family member and not an elf because elves didn’t exist to muggles? Harry swallowed, a flurry of thoughts running through his head. “And Arcturus Black and Walburga and the others never questioned you?”

Kreacher’s smiled. “We are only elves, Master Potter.”

Aizawa bowed. “Thank you. I am Shouta Aizawa. Melanippe was my mother, though we called her Mel.” 

Kreacher nodded, though he looked disturbed by the bow. “I know this. You are a Black.” 

The hero straightened. “I know I look similar to them, but I don’t have the same abilities they do.”

“Master misunderstands.” 

Aizawa frowned. “Please don’t call me that.” 

Kreacher’s ears twitched as he bowed his head slightly. “You are a Black. You are my Master.” 

“It’s hopeless. Believe me, I’ve tried.” Harry sighed at Aizawa’s troubled expression, then turned back to Kreacher. “What do you mean he misunderstands?”

“He has the blood of a Black. The old contract stands with him.” 

“What?” Harry stared at Kreacher. “But he doesn’t have magic. How can the contract include him?”

“He has the same strain as Melanippe.” 

The same strain? What did—wait. “Kreacher, do quirks feel like magic to you?”

“Quirks?” Kreacher finally turned back to look at Harry. “I do not know this word, Master.” 

“What they have.” Harry gestured towards Aizawa, Yamada, and Hitoshi. “It’s different than what I have.”

Kreacher frowned, looking between the three of them. “Their magic has changed like Melanippe’s. It is a new gift, but from magic.”

“So quirks are just magic?” But that would mean there was almost no such thing as a muggle anymore! And that didn’t explain how Midoriya could have both! “But Aizawa 

“No. It is born of magic.” Kreacher shook his head. “Same origin. Different result. It is like my magic.” 

Harry’s brain was racing. So to Kreacher, quirks felt like they came from the same source as Harry’s magic and a house elf’s? Harry’s head hurt from all of this magical theory. “Kreacher, could someone have both?”

The house elf shrugged. “I know no such thing. I only know what it is.” 

Bloody hell. 

Still, though. Quirks might have come from magic? But they had to be different enough that Aizawa’s quirk didn’t work on Harry’s magic and enchanted artifacts like the Black family tree didn’t recognize them. 

Yamada shook his head, smiling in disbelief. “Nezu’s is going to have a field day with this.” 

Hitoshi snorted. “Watch him figure out how to come here just so that he can interrogate this poor guy.”

Kreacher was studying Yamada and Hitoshi now, fingers curling together and his head tilted slightly as he looked between them and Aizawa.

Oh. Harry supposed he should introduce them. “This is Hizashi Yamada and Hitoshi Shinsou, Aizawa’s husband and son. They will be staying with us for the next few days.” 

The house elf nodded. “How may I serve my masters?”

Hitoshi shuddered. “_Please_ don’t call us that.” 

“You are related to my masters; therefore you are my masters.” 

This was going nowhere. “Kreacher, has anyone entered any of the Black estates while I’ve been gone?”

“I can only feel Grimmauld, and no such attempt has been made.” 

“Thank you, Kreacher.” So no one had tried to access Grimmauld, but with it still being protected by the fidelius, that wasn’t a surprise. And it told Harry nothing about the other properties. Harry still needed answers. “What time is it?”

“A quarter past five in the morning, Master.” He looked between them all, hope shining in his eyes. “Do Masters require breakfast?”

It was still early then. Too early for the bank, at least… if Harry remembered correctly, it didn’t open until ten. “Thank you, Kreacher, that sounds great. Could you have it prepared around nine please?” 

Kreacher nodded, smiling again. “I will be happy to, Master. It will be served in the dining room.” 

And then he disappeared. 

Harry wrinkled his nose. He’d never liked the dining room, but he supposed they wouldn’t all fit around the coffee table in here where Harry used to eat. 

“Well that was… disconcerting.” Aizawa was still staring at the spot where Kreacher had disappeared as he rubbed one arm. “His magic is different than yours?”

Oh, right. They wouldn’t know about that. “Yes. House elves have incredibly powerful magic and are very in tune with it, but it’s somehow dependent upon their bond with us. I don’t really know how it works. Hermione would know more, but don’t ask unless you want an hour long rant.” 

“Ah.” Aizawa frowned, clearly considering whether or not it would be worth it. 

Harry sighed. “First things first, let me show you to your rooms. Then you can help me look around the library and the rest of the house for any books about wards.” 

Hitoshi grinned. “Any way we could actually read some of those books this weekend?” 

“I guess? It depends on how long everything takes.” It’s not like Hitoshi would be able to help with destroying magical artifacts, though. “For now, I need more information. And if I can avoid involving Malfoy in this, that would be for the best.” Harry headed toward the door, pausing as the others grabbed their bags to follow him down the hallway. 

“Malfoy?” Yamada frowned. “You haven’t mentioned that name before.” 

“He’s Aizawa’s… cousin, I guess? Their mothers were sisters. He saved my life during the war, but we’ve also both tried to kill each other on numerous occasions, so I don’t exactly trust him.” 

“Lovely. So someone in the family is alive, then.”

“Technically, he’s not in the family anymore. He’s one of the one’s Sirius blasted off the tree. There _is_ Teddy, but he’s a toddler. He’s your aunt’s grandson and is staying with the Weasleys at the moment.” Wait. Harry didn’t hear footsteps behind him anymore. 

He turned around, only to see the three heroes staring at the portraits along the hallway, who were all whispering about Melanippe and muggles daring to enter the house. Right. They wouldn’t know about portraits, either. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re just paintings that reflect each individual’s memories and personality. The Black family was full of bigots—” Harry rolled his eyes at the gasps and murmurs about the disrespectful new heir—“so they’re going to spout bigotry and little that’s actually helpful.” 

“Heir Potter!” Harry jumped, turning to see an older woman smiling at him. She had grey hair pulled back in a loose bun, and grey eyes that were surprisingly friendly and not harsh or cold. “Finally paying attention to us, are you?” 

This was the first time one of the portraits had called him heir without cursing him in the same breath. Maybe she could help? Cautiously, Harry bowed his head. “I apologize. I wasn’t feeling the most social when I was here last.”

“That much was obvious.” An older man a few frames down grumbled at him. “And now you’re bring muggle blood into the Black ancestral—”

“Oh, shush, Marius.” The woman smiled at them all. “Our family is too small to be picky about its members, and if Kreacher recognizes them as magical in some way, that’s good enough for me.”

Harry stared at the woman in confusion. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Dorea, dear. Your grandmother.” She sniffed, “I tried to introduce myself to you earlier, but you’d never listen.” 

His grandmother?! “Sirius never told me you were here.” 

“Well I’m not usually. Hate the company, if you must know. But I could hear everyone making a fuss from my other portrait, so I decided to come see what had them all up in arms.” 

Harry grinned. “Brilliant.” An actual relative! She was just a portrait, sure, but it was more than he’d ever had before. And someone from the Potter family! Wait. “I thought Grimmauld was charmed so that you all couldn’t leave the home and tell our secrets?”

Dorea Potter laughed. “We can still leave, love! We just can’t go to another house where anyone lives. No one lives in the Potter vaults, though, so I’m free to travel there and talk with the other Potter portraits that survived the war.” 

There were other Potter portraits? “Did my parents ever make one?” Surely Dumbledore would have told him if they had, though? Or Sirius or Remus?

Dorea’s expression became pained. “I’m sorry, love. People rarely make portraits when they’re that young.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged. Right. Of course. 

“Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean she can leave?” Yamada stared at the portrait in confusion. “You’re not stuck in the frame?”.

“Of course not!” The old man from earlier shouted back. “Of all the ignorant—”

“They can go to any other portrait that was made of them.” Harry cut off the portraits rant, glaring at the Black before turning back to Yamada. “They can also go to any portrait in the same building as a portrait of them.” Of course, he actually didn’t know how that worked, but the Fat Lady had certainly wandered around Hogwarts.

“What the hell.” Hitoshi stared at the wall, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “I will never understand magic.” 

At that, the portraits all started mumbling again. Harry shook his head, ignoring the rest and turning back to Dorea. “It’s lovely meeting you, but I’m afraid I need to show them to their rooms now. Will you still be here later?”

“Of course, love! Go perform your duties as host. I’ll be waiting in my frame.” 

“Thank you.” Harry turned back and began climbing. “This way. We’re just going up to the second floor. Aizawa and Yamada can have the master suite, and Hitoshi and I can share my room—I used to share it all the time with Ron.” And while there _were_ empty rooms on the other floors, Harry figured Hitoshi would rather room with him than sleep in an unknown setting on a different floor than everyone else.

Once they reached the second floor, Harry pointed down the hallway. “Your room is that door at the end. The bathroom’s in the middle. The library is on the fifth floor just up the stairs. I figured you two can meet us there after you put your things down?”

Aizawa nodded and the two adults headed further down the hallway, while Hitoshi peeked into the room behind Harry. “Everything’s so red.” 

Harry shrugged as he pulled his trunk out of his pocket and set it on the ground. “Ron and I are both Gryffindors, so we redecorated a bit.” Harry pointed his wand at his trunk. “Engorgio!” 

Hitoshi stared at the trunk for a second, then shook his head as he entered the room. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you do things like that. It’s like you have infinite quirks stuffed inside your wand.” 

Harry laughed. “I can’t do everything that quirks can do, but it _is_ bloody convenient.”

Hitoshi tossed his backpack onto Ron’s bed, still looking around the room. “I don’t really have anything that I need to get from my bag or change into, so we can go straight to the library if you want. Unless I should go ahead and put my hat or sunglasses on for some reason?”

“No, you should be fine. The portraits can’t report your whereabouts, and the fidelius makes it impossible for anyone to break in, so if we get a surprise visitor, they’ll be someone I know and they’re all fine with muggles.” Though seeing Hitoshi with black hair was definitely something that was taking a while to get used to. 

“Let’s go then. I’m kind of curious to see what books they have.” 

Harry walked back out into the hallway, shutting the door behind them. “There’s lots, really. Most of it is on dark magic, but I spent a while locking away or destroying anything that had a spell targeting muggles or anything like that.” 

“Lovely.” 

Harry shrugged, “The Blacks were a pretty terrible family.” 

Immediately the portraits around them erupted indignantly and Harry sighed. “Alright, alright, you had you own honor and all that. Now shut up before I make you shut up.” 

Silence.

“Thought so.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Come on, Hitoshi. The fifth floor is at the very top, right under the attic.” Climbing three flights of stairs left Harry slightly winded, but Hitoshi was perfectly fine. 

Figured. 

Harry sighed. He needed to get back in shape. 

“Holy shit.” Hitoshi slowly moved from one row of books to the next, aghast at the floor to ceiling book cases that covered almost the entire floor. “I thought you were exaggerating when you called it a library, but you really weren’t kidding. Any idea where books on wards might be in this maze?”

Harry sighed. Point me spells and accio could only get you so far, especially when anything important was likely warded against those. “Unfortunately, not a clue. I remember seeing some books about wards in general, but where those were…” Harry shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, honestly. Usually wizarding book titles are fairly straightforward, though. Well, that or they’re grandiose and melodramatic.”

Harry could hear the portraits fussing again, which must mean Aizawa and Yamada were walking upstairs. “You might as well start on the left and work your way around. Leave some books on the ground in front of the shelf to let others know you’ve looked at that shelf.” 

“Can do.”

“You want us to do the same?”

Harry jumped, turning around to see Aizawa and Yamada already behind him, having climbed the stairs faster than Harry had assumed possible. “Start wherever you want, but yeah, leaving some books on the ground will let us know what shelves others have looked at. Oh! But don’t pull any books out that look like they involve magical creatures. Those tend to be a bit more active.” 

“Active?” Yamada’s hand paused on the spine of a book as he turned back toward Harry. “What do you mean? They’re books. Do your books move?”

“They can.” Harry shrugged. He at least recognized that it really made no sense for books to move, but some wizards were eccentric like that.

Hitoshi’s head peaked out from behind a nearby shelf. “Is that why you keep a belt around one of your schoolbooks? I hadn’t dared to ask.” 

Harry winced. “Yeah. _The Monster Book of Monsters_ will try to bite you if you don’t handle it correctly. It’s not pleasant.” 

“That makes no sense, but alright.” Aizawa shook his head. “We’ll avoid books about creatures.” 

Reassured that the other three would be cautious, Harry began to wander down one of the rows, his hand drifting over countless spines.

But nothing about wards. 

Shelf after shelf, and there was absolutely _nothing_ on the Black family wards. Every now and then the word “ward” would appear in a title, but it was always a general text or about other types of wards and not familial ones. 

Harry sighed. There had to be something here, though! Surely it wasn’t just all passed down orally? Harry knew the Blacks were a paranoid bunch, but—

“Oi!” Harry winced as Yamada’s loud voice suddenly called out from the other side of the library. “There’s a locked door here, are there more books inside it?”

A locked door? Harry didn’t remember… oh! 

Harry started running. 

The Lord’s study! 

Harry halted in front of it, grinning. 

“I take it the room’s important, then?” Yamada was looking at him bemusedly, and Harry laughed. 

“It’s the Lord of the House’s study. If information on the familial wards is anywhere, I bet it’s there.” Harry put his hand on the door handle, wincing as a small pin pricked his finger, and then the door was swinging open. “I’m glad you didn’t try to open it. If you aren’t of Black blood the door won’t let you in. I think I’ve removed all of the curses from it, but I can’t be too sure since I’m dealing with the Blacks. You should probably wait out here.” 

“Right.” Yamada had slowly inched backwards and was now standing a few yards away. “I’ll do that.”

Trusting the hero to do as he said, Harry stepped through the doorway, letting the door swing shut behind him. 

Immediately the candles around the room lit up. Every wall was lined with shelves, drawers of scrolls, documents, and journals, but there wasn’t any clear place to start. Whatever organization this room held, it wasn’t obvious. 

Harry sighed. Might as well start in the back corner and work his way around. He went over to the shelf, picking up a random scroll and untying the chord around it. 

“What are you doing here, boy?” 

Harry jumped, whirling around. 

The portrait!

Arcturus Black, Sirius’ grandfather, stared down at Harry from behind the desk. Harry’d never bothered to talk to him—the one time he’d been in here before, the portrait had raved about Harry’s destruction of family property. 

Slate grey eyes stared at him, the man’s expression both stern and haughty. “Well? I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Harry frowned. He was trying to protect the Black properties now, so maybe the portrait would help this time? It was worth a shot. “I’m looking for information on the family wards.” 

“The wards?” The man snorted. “Why should I tell you? Even if Sirius made you heir, you’re a Potter, not a Black.” 

“Because there are no more Blacks!” Both Aizawa and Teddy would hardly meet Black family pedigree standards. Harry glared at the man. “They’re all gone. Whether you like it or not, I’m the Heir to the House of Black. Narcissa’s son is the Heir to the House of Malfoy, you blasted disowned Andromeda and her descendent has the blood of a werewolf, and Melanippe’s son is a muggle, so I’m your best option, you pureblooded bigot.” Harry paused at the man’s outraged expression.

“Look here, young man—”

Harry called on his magic, letting it swirl about him as a show of power. “I am the Black heir. _Tell me about the wards._”

Arcturus Black stared at Harry for a second, frowning. Neither of them moved. 

Finally, Arcturus spoke again, “Why do you need to know?”

Well, that was better than before. Harry reigned in his magic, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “My magic has been sending waves of heat through me for the past month or so. I think someone is trying to break into one of the properties, but I don’t know for sure because all wards are different. How do the Black wards function?”

Arcturus tapped his fingers on top of his cane as he regarded Harry. The seconds stretched out, neither one of them speaking, and then the portrait’s lip curled back in a sneer. “Toujours pur. You are at least better than some muggle or werewolf filth.” 

“Don’t talk about my friends that way!”

“Be quiet, child.” The man huffed. “As you have surmised, the Black wards frequently feel like warmth to their holder. You should be able to feel them and access them at all times, though when they are in danger, they will make their presence known so as to alert you to the threat. Now, describe exactly what this warmth has felt like to you.” 

He should always feel them? What did that even mean? “It felt like a wave of heat, coursing through my body.” 

“Is it ever stronger or weaker? Is it merely warmth, or do you feel like you’re about to be burned alive?”

What the hell? “It’s just warmth. Sometimes stronger or weaker, but never that strong.” 

Arcturus nodded, stroking his beard. “Then they have merely been testing the wards, not destroying them. Of course, that does not mean that the individual hasn’t found a way through the wards without breaking them. You will need to evaluate the wards themselves in order to determine that.” 

“Well how do I do that, then?”

Arcturus stared at him, then slowly closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead. “If you cannot feel the wards at all, then how have you been maintaining them? Please tell me you haven’t been ignoring them, you foolish boy.”

What? “I have to maintain them?” Merlin, why had no one told him that! 

“Yes! You must recast the spells every few years in order to maintain and strengthen them. Did Sirius tell you nothing?”

That’s it. “Don’t blame Sirius for this!” 

Arcturus sneered. “I will do as I please. That boy clearly left you unprepared to be the Lord of House Black, much less to become Lord Potter.” 

“Well you haven’t exactly been helpful yourself! I stayed here for months and all you did was yell at me!” 

“You were destroying our heirlooms! And on top of that, I had assumed that Sirius had done his job! Clearly he didn’t, and now I will rectify that.” The man took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Now. You can feel your own magic inside you, yes?”

Harry nodded. He had to concentrate on it, but he could.

“You should be able to feel the wards underneath your magic, supporting it. How you haven’t noticed it already is beyond me.” 

Harry glared at the man. “A lot has been happening, ok? I haven’t exactly had time for self-contemplation.”

“Yes, a month alone with no one to keep you company but Kreacher. I realize that must have been overwhelming for you.” 

“Shut up.” Harry glared at the man for a few more seconds, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Focus. Find his magic. Surrender to it. Search it. 

There! 

He could feel them, like a net stretching out underneath him. Yet… the net wasn’t whole. Ropes were fraying and cut, some only hanging together by a few strands. There were a few places where the wards stayed strong, but overall… 

Harry opened his eyes. “The wards are being slowly pulled apart.” 

Arcturus sighed. “Constant pressure and little maintenance will do that.”

“I didn’t know, ok? Stop harping on it already. What are the spells to maintain them and repair them? Is there a way to know if anyone has broken through?”

Arcturus pointed to a bookcase on the left. “There is an untitled manuscript with a green spine. Pull that out, then cast secretum atrum revelio.” 

Harry went over to the bookcase, searching trough the spines until he found the one that the portrait mentioned, then opened it to cast the spell. Immediately writing began to scrawl across the pages. Harry shuddered, eerily reminded of Riddle’s diary. 

“As for your second question, you will know from the state of the wards when you enter each property. After a while you will have a feel for which property connects to which strands, but only time will help with that.” 

Time. The one thing Harry never had enough of. “Right.” He shut the book, holding it loosely at his side. “Well, it looks like I will be busy the next few days, then. Thank you for your help.”

“Defend our heritage, you imbecilic heir. That is all the thanks I want.” 

Right. Harry probably shouldn’t mention that he was going to destroy more of their heirlooms. “I’ll find the intruder.” 

The man gave a regal nod, and Harry slipped from the room. 

And was surprised to see Aizawa and Hitoshi waiting outside the room along with Yamada, all three visibly relieved to see him. 

“What?”

“There was this really weird… pressure, I guess?” Hitoshi shrugged. “It happened a few minutes ago and came from that room. It was kind of like what happened at the Halloween party, so we thought you might need us, but you’d told Pop it wouldn’t let anyone else inside, so…” 

A weird pressure…? Harry’s eyes widened and he could feel his cheeks starting to burn. “Sorry. That was me. I, um… Well, Arcturus Black’s portrait was being a dick, so I called on my magic to remind him that I’m the living heir and he wasn’t in any position to refuse me.” 

“You called on your magic?” Aizawa frowned, “So it was like Halloween, but this time it was on purpose and you were in control.” 

Harry nodded, “Exactly. Sorry it alarmed you all.” Harry rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly, “I didn’t think about that.” 

Yamada gave him a thumbs up. “We’re just glad you’re ok, little listener!” 

Aizawa nodded. “Was there information on the wards?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The portrait told me how to feel the wards myself, and I can tell that they’re really frayed. I’ll need to go to all of the properties to do some upkeep and determine if anyone’s been able to break in, but Arcturus confirmed my theory that it’s likely someone has been trying to break in. I just have to hope they haven’t actually been able to.” Harry sighed. “None of the wards are completely destroyed, but they all have fairly large gaps.” This whole situation as a mess. 

Hitoshi frowned. “How do we check out those properties, then?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, looking between Hitoshi and the two heroes. “There’s no ‘we’ about this. If there’s a wizard at one of the properties then I could end up in a fight.” 

“Exactly.” Aizawa stared at him, completely unimpressed with Harry’s logic. “That’s why you need backup.” 

“Not. Happening.” Harry could handle this by himself. He just needed Aizawa to go with him to Gringotts. That was it.

There was a loud crack next to them, and the other three jumped as Kreacher appeared. “Breakfast is ready, Masters.” 

It was already nine? They’d spent longer looking through stacks of books than Harry had thought. Either that or Harry had been in the study longer. “Thank you, Kreacher. We’ll be there shortly.” 

The house elf bowed, then disappeared once more. 

“Come on, let’s get some food since Kreacher made it for us. In an hour we’ll be able to head to the bank.” 

“And after that we’ll go to the other properties?” Hitoshi quickened his pace to walk beside him. 

Harry groaned. “I told you. It’s not safe.”

“Then it’s also not safe for you to go alone.” 

Harry clenched his jaw, annoyed with the whole situation. “I know you all are good fighters, but duels are different. You can’t block their attacks, so if you don’t dodge, you’re dead.” Especially if the opponents were Death Eaters.

“You think we can’t dodge?” Bloody hell, Harry could hear the skepticism practically oozing from Aizawa’s voice. 

Harry turned right from the stairwell, walking into the dinning room, holding open one of the double doors. “I think the consequences are deadly and I don’t want to risk it.” 

Aizawa stepped through the doorway with a sigh. “If you won’t bring us, at least bring someone magical. Could your friend Hermione go with you?”

Hermione? Harry supposed she might be able to… she wasn’t on the teams that were being sent to look for the young Bailey girl. But she was probably still busy helping Shacklebolt. “I can send her a letter, but that would mean waiting longer…” And he didn’t have an owl at the moment. Kreacher could take it to her, though. Harry frowned, sitting down at the head of the table where Kreacher had set out plates for all of them. 

Harry didn’t like the idea of waiting longer. Now that he was aware of how frayed the wards felt, the sensation wouldn’t leave him alone. The holes were always looming at the back of his mind, and each one represented a Death Eater that could have broken in and found a dangerous artifact. 

Cautiously, the others circled around the table and took seats next to him, and all the lids over the food in the middle vanished. 

Harry grinned at their dumbfounded expressions. Watching people react to magic never got old. “Grab some of whatever you want, Kreacher will save the leftovers for us.”

“Damn, with service like this, how do any wizards know how to cook?”

Harry winced as he grabbed a slice of bacon. “Not all families can afford house elves—it’s only the upper class that have them.” 

“You _buy_ them?!” Yamada stared at him incredulously. “I thought you said they needed a bond with your magic or something?”

“It’s complicated and a lot of them aren’t treated well.” Harry sighed. “One of Hermione’s goals is to reform the current system—that’s why she knows so much about them. She’s done a lot of research into the bonds and such.” 

“No offense Harry, but the more I learn about your enclaves the more I don’t like.” Hitoshi stared at the bacon for a second, then sighed and reached for a few slices. “He really did seem to want to make these for us, though.” 

“A lot about house elves is messed up, I’ll admit it. But Kreacher has nowhere else to go, and if I released him, it would bring huge dishonor upon him. Hogwarts would still let him work there, but no family would take him, and he’d rather stay with the Black family than work for Hogwarts.” 

The two heroes exchanged looks, but slowly began to grab food as well. Harry understood their reluctance to accept it, but this really was the best situation for Kreacher, at least as things stood right now.

Everything felt tense now, though, and Harry hated it. 

Well, it was tense until Yamada took sip of pumpkin juice and then spat it back out. “What the heck _is_ this?!”

Hitoshi snickered. “You didn’t have any at the Halloween party, Pop?”

Yamada stared at him. “What? Why would it have been at the party?”

“It’s pumpkin juice. It’s a really common drink in the enclaves. Kaminari-kun asked me what sort of things we usually had to celebrate Halloween at my school and I said pumpkin juice and then Bakugou-kun somehow figured out how to make it. I’m still not entirely sure how he did so, but it tasted mostly the same.” 

Yamada looked back at the cup. “You like this stuff?”

“I could ask Kreacher to bring you some water if you’d prefer that.” 

“Nope! No. I’m good.” Yamada grimaced at the cup, then took another sip, his mouth twisting further at the taste. “Totally fine with this.” 

Harry snorted, then took a sip from his own glass. He vaguely remembered not liking the drink at first, but now it was far stranger _not_ to have the drink around.

“So, how are we getting to this bank?” Aizawa took a sip of the pumpkin juice, apparently not nearly as disgusted by it as his husband. “The same way we came here, that teleportation method we saw in Japan, or something else?”

Harry frowned. That was the problem, really… “I can manage to um… teleport… two of you at once, but I can’t manage all three of you. It’s safer for one person to be alone while under Grimmauld’s protections, so I’ll teleport two of you to a public place—I guess the pub will work, and then I’ll come back for the third.” 

Aizawa nodded. “That sounds fine. Take us first, then come back for Hitoshi.” 

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. “I’ve dyed my hair and will be wearing sunglasses, so they won’t know I’m a muggle automatically, but I get it. It would be weird for someone to have sunglasses on inside a pub, and we don’t need to stand out.” 

“Exactly.” 

Harry swallowed his eggs. 

Hitoshi sighed. “Just don’t leave me here long, please. This place gives me the creeps.” 

“I won’t, promise.” Grimmauld Place was enough to creep anyone out, even if it had grown on Harry after staying here for so long. 

“Anything we should know about the bank before we get there?” Yamada bit into his sausage, then swallowed. “Sho’s told me that you’ve mentioned the goblins aren’t exactly friendly.” 

Right. What would be important to know about the goblins? “They don’t really get along with humans and we’ve had several wars with them, but they’re also really honorable and will be insulted if you imply they’ve mishandled money or anything like that. And you really don’t want to get on their bad side. They’re vicious.” 

“And you would know that, right?” Hitoshi raised one eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Since you stole from them, apparently.” 

“It was for the war! And I’ll own that vault tomorrow anyway!” Harry groaned, letting his face fall into his hands. “Officially, they’re fine with pardoning me because of the war, but unofficially, they’re definitely holding a grudge.” Harry sat back up, pushing the remnants of the egg around on his plate. “Bloody goblins.” 

Aizawa paused as he was sipping from his cup. “Did the goblins side with the other wizards during the war, then?”

Harry shook his head. “No, they were neutral. They’re always neutral when it comes to wars between humans. That’s one of the reasons why we can trust them with our money and belongings.” Harry finished up his eggs, then grabbed some more bacon and a sausage. “Anyway, the bank’s in Diagon Alley, the wizarding shopping district. It’ll be fairly crowded, but a crowd for us isn’t really the same thing as a crowd outside the enclaves. Just stay close and try not to bump into anyone, I guess. The purebloods tend to be offended by that.” 

Mic nodded, “Gotcha. Any behavior that would help us blend in? I noticed most of the male portraits with long hair wore it straight down or half pulled back. Should I do that as well?”

Harry blinked. He’d never really thought about it. But… Lucius Malfoy, Dumbledore, Sirius, Bill… they’d all just wore their hair straight down. Charlie wore his in a ponytail, though… but he was also considered somewhat of a rebel. “Straight down, I guess. I think that’s more of the fashion now.” Other than that… “I wouldn’t worry too much about behaviors, though. We may have magic, but we’re still just people. Just follow me and you’ll be fine.”

“Ok,” Aizawa set his silverware down next to his plate. “And a rendezvous point?”

Harry stared at him.

Hitoshi grinned, “If we do get separated, where should we meet up?”

“Right.” Man, they really did like to plan ahead. “The bank’s easy to spot—a huge white marble building with Greek columns. You can’t miss it.” 

Aizawa nodded, then frowned in thought. “And there aren’t any other white marble buildings?”

Harry shook his head. “No. Most of the buildings look like they’re from pictures of medieval Europe. Or the seventeen hundreds at the latest. But nothing huge and stately like that—the goblins made it, not us.” 

“Wait.” Yamada looked around the room, frowning. “This is as modern as you get?! You don’t have any architecture that’s _actually_ modern?”

“No…?” Harry looked between them, confused as to why they were surprised by this. “We don’t have electricity, remember? Those two things kind of go together.” 

Yamada shook his head. “You poor souls.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “We do just fine, thanks.” 

Taking them to Diagon was definitely going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are picking up speed! Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!! I'm already mostly done with the next chap and over halfway done with the final chapter! They'll both be even longer than this one, so know that there's still a lot left even though we're definitely getting close to the end! As always, thanks so much for all the comments and kudos!
> 
> Disclaimer on house elves: I hate how they're left as being happy with acting solely in servile roles and Dobby is always the lone eccentric and even he just wants to serve people and uuuughhhh I could rant for hours, honestly. But Harry's not about to start a house elf revolution, that's Hermione. Which I totally hc that she works on, but alas that would be a whole other fic and I simply don't have the time and energy. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	16. But What They Grow To Be

Harry stared at Hitoshi. “You do realize we’re just going to walk into the bank, walk out, and apparate back to Grimmauld?” 

His roommate’s grey hoodie and black cargo pants might look completely normal, but Harry knew Hitoshi had at least ten knives stashed throughout his outfit, and the capture weapon was resting on his shoulders, as well. 

Hitoshi gave him a wry grin. “Too much?”

“Yes.” Harry groaned. “We’re not going to be attacked at the bank, ok? I know the goblins hate me, but I’m still a customer.” 

Hitoshi frowned, but took off the capture weapon. “It would probably stand out too much, anyway. I’m keeping the knives, though.” 

Harry was beginning to suspect that pro heroes were as paranoid as Moody, they just hid it better. “Come on, let’s just go downstairs and meet Aizawa and Yamada.” 

“As you wish.” Hitoshi wrinkled his nose. “Seeing you in that kind of outfit is still weird.” 

“The robes?” Harry supposed Hitoshi had only seen him in robes at that Halloween party. “I used to wear robes every day, though I burrowed these from a closet here. They’re more fancy than what I usually wear, but I’m trying to _not_ look like myself at the moment, so they’ll do.” They were made from some kind of smooth black material and had silver embroidery on all the edges, but they were better than the silk and velvet garments that lined most of the closets at Grimmauld.

When the two of them reached the drawing room, Harry was unsurprised to see Aizawa looking the same as always, but Yamada was wearing jeans and a plain red t-shirt, with a black button-up shirt over it. The loud hero’s sunglasses had been replaced by regular glasses, and his long hair hung straight down. It was… as normal looking an outfit as Harry had ever seen Yamada wear. Even at the cat cafe the man had been in a leather jacket with his hair pulled back. 

With a flick of his wrist, Harry summoned his wand, but kept its tip pointed downward. “Just in case, I figured I should put some protection spells on your clothing. Unless you would prefer I didn’t?”

Hitoshi shrugged. “Go ahead. I won’t say no to additional protections.” The boy frowned as Harry lifted his wand, “They won’t be unpleasant, right?”

“They shouldn’t be.” Harry cast as many protective spells as he could think of, and though Hitoshi shivered as the spells fell over him, he didn’t react more strongly than that. 

At Aizawa and Yamada’s confirmation that they’d like them as well, then did the same for the two older heroes. 

And then they were ready. 

Right?

Harry mentally went through everything they’d needed to do. He’d already given Kreacher a letter to take to Hermione, so that was done. He’d done protective spells, the heroes had their own weapons and didn’t have electronics…

Harry cast tempus. A little after ten. Perfect. “Right. Any more questions before we go?”

Aizawa shook his head. “No, let’s get this over with.” 

Harry definitely understood that sentiment. “Hopefully it won’t take too long. I can’t take three people at once, so I’ll take Aizawa-san and Yamada-san and find them a place to wait, then come back for Hitoshi.” At their nods, Harry pulled up his hood and then reached out, grabbing Aizawa and Yamada’s wrists. He closed his eyes, and the world twisted.

They landed in the entryway to the Leaky Cauldron, the two heroes leaning against each other for a second before they looked around them. “Where is this place?”

“The apparition room of the Leaky Cauldron.” Harry’d thought about taking them to George’s place since they would be safe from other wizards there, but there was no way of knowing if the two muggle heroes would be safe from George’s _products_ there. The Leaky Cauldron was better. 

Harry nudged past the two men, making his way out the door and toward a back table. “Sit here. Order a butterbeer if someone comes and asks you if you want anything.” Harry reached into his robe pocket and was relieved to find some old sickles and a galleon. That would be plenty for two butterbeers. “I’ll pay when I get back if I need to, but I’m going to go get Hitoshi now.”

Harry waited until Aizawa nodded, then apparated. 

Hitoshi jumped at the noise, holding a hand up to his heart. “Shit, Harry. Is it always that loud?”

“Yeah, you just didn’t notice it the first time because you were the one apparating. You ready?”

Hitoshi grimaced but nodded, pulling his hood up and putting on his sunglasses. “Let’s go.” 

Harry made sure his own hood was still up, then reached out to hold Hitoshi’s wrist. A second later the world was twisting around them, and then they’d landed. “This way.” 

Hitoshi clutched his stomach, leaning against Harry, who forced down his knee-jerk reaction to pull away. This was Hitoshi. It was fine. “Sorry.” The other teen pulled back, his posture slowly loosening. “I’ll be happy if I never have to experience that again.” 

Harry shook his head, double checking to make sure Hitoshi was actually ok before he turned to head into the crowd. “It’ll at least be a few hours.” 

“Great.” Hitoshi groaned, but followed Harry through the maze of tables toward his parents. 

Aizawa and Yamada were still sitting where Harry had left them, both angled to the side so that they could watch the pub while still looking like they were holding a conversation. Aizawa nodded at them as they approached. “The servers have been too busy to bother us, so far.”

“That’s good.” Harry grinned. One less detail to worry about. “Let’s go ahead and head out, then!” 

“What exactly _is_ a butterbeer?” Yamada looked perplexed as he stood up. “Why would you put butter in beer?”

“A butterbeer?” Now Hitoshi was frowning in confusion.

Harry snorted. “It’s basically our rootbeer, Or maybe like a cream soda? I haven’t had either, so I don’t really know what to compare it to, but I’m pretty sure there’s no butter involved.” Harry shrugged, tugging his hood forward as someone across the pub made eye contact with him briefly. “We can get some later if you want, but we should head to the bank first.”

Now was the hard part. 

Navigating Diagon Alley had become a nightmare after the war. Harry kept his head down, but he also had to be alert so that they weren’t taken by surprise. 

Harry’s hand felt empty without his wand, but he couldn’t draw it. That would raise suspicions—no one walked around with their wand out. Not unless they wanted a fight.

The bank wasn’t too far. 

Don’t attract attention. Don’t bump into anyone. Walk fast, but not too fast. Make sure the other three were still behind him. Make sure no one was watching them too closely. Check the rooftops. Check the windows. 

Always, always, stay alert.

When the bank doors shut behind them, Harry was grateful that there were no other wizards in sight. They’d made it here without anyone recognizing him. A quick glance back at the others showed that the notice-me-not around them had disappeared as they entered, but other than that everything still seemed to be in place. 

Cautiously, Harry approached the goblins at the head table, letting his hood fall back enough that they could see his face when he looked up at them. “A prosperous day to you. I need to speak with the Black account manager.” 

The goblin’s eyes darted to the figures behind him, then looked back at Harry and smiled. “Of course, Mr. Potter.” The goblin’s sharp smile widened. “It is our _pleasure_ to serve you. Will your guests be accompanying you?” 

“Yes.” 

The goblin rang a bell, which brought another goblin, maybe a younger one? scurrying forward from a side room. “Bring out Kramper for Mr. Potter’s account.” Pitch black eyes turned back to Harry as the other goblin darted away. “He will meet you in room two on the left.” 

“You have my thanks.” Harry bent forward in a short bow, “May your gold always flourish and your enemies suffer.”

The goblin sneered, turning back to his paperwork in a clear dismissal. 

Harry sighed. He was _trying_, damn it. He understood why they hated him, but this was ridiculous. 

As Harry turned to join the others, Yamada was looking around in amazement while Hitoshi and Aizawa stood with the same loose posture that Harry knew from watching their classes meant they were both ready to attack at a second’s notice. Harry nodded toward the left wall where large white doors were positioned between marble pillars. “This way.” 

The door opened as they reached it, revealing a small marble room with a desk and three chairs covered in gold and velvet embellishments. In the privacy of the small room, Harry let his hood fall back. “Aizawa-san, if you’d take one of the seats? I’ll take the other one if you two don’t mind standing.” 

Yamada and Hitoshi shook their heads, both clearly more comfortable with lurking in the back of the room. As it was, Aizawa didn’t sit down until Harry had done so. “This place is very…” Aizawa paused, his eyes trailing over the golden dragon on the front of the desk that was cowering before a ring of goblins with spears, “ornate.” 

Harry snorted. “No one can beat goblin craftsmanship.” 

“A pleasure to hear you say so, Mr. Potter.” 

Harry looked to the left, startled, as a side door opened and a goblin entered, setting paperwork onto the desk before smoothing out his suit and sitting down. The goblin peered over his glasses at them, then looked down at the papers once more. 

“I assume that this is Shouta Aizawa, son of Melanippe Black, and you are here about the Black assets?”

Harry nodded. “We are.” 

“Very well.” The goblin slid a form across the table. “Here is a list of all the Black properties and vaults. Please review the list and confirm that you have received this and are aware of the Black assets as they stand before we proceed.” 

Harry quickly looked over the list—it was the exact same one that had been in the papers he had. Good. Harry nodded. 

The goblin sneered. “Verbal confirmation, please.” 

Harry sighed. He hated this process. He had to try to make the goblins happy, though. Maybe being formal like Hermione would help? “You have provided us with the list of assets and we have familiarized ourselves with it.” The goblin nodded and turned to Aizawa, who repeated what Harry had stated.

“Very well.” The goblin pulled the paper back. “Mr. Aizawa, do you approve of the Heir of Black’s appointment, which grants him all powers of the Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black?”

Aizawa tensed next to Harry, but nodded. “Yes.” 

“And Mr. Potter, are you here presenting yourself as the Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black?”

“Yes.” Harry could feel his magic thrumming in suspense. He just wanted this over with.

“Very well.” The goblin slid two papers forward, one in front of each of them, and then a small knife. “Mr. Aizawa, if you would please read the form of appointment and sign at the bottom, confirming your identity with a drop of blood next to your signature. Mr. Potter, if you would do the same with your form of appointment.” 

Harry swallowed, quickly skimming over the page’s contents. The information was the same as what had been in the packet again, just trimmed down to only include what was important for him as the heir—control of the vaults, properties, and wards, as well as the Black seat in the Wizengamott, the final authority over any familial financial disputes, and the right to request access to any Black vault or property through Gringotts. 

Harry could finally track down what was happening with his magic and destroy the Black artifacts before they harmed anyone. 

He took a deep breath, picked up a quill from the inkwell at the edge of the table, and signed his name at the bottom before passing the quill to Aizawa. 

Aizawa stared at him. “You want me to use that?”

Oh. Right. Aizawa had probably never used a quill before. “It’s not too hard?”

The man sighed, then reached out to take the quill from Harry. His signature was messy and had several inkblots, but it was far better than any of Harry’s first attempts with the quill. The man stared at it for a few seconds, then shrugged and handed the quill back to Harry, who put it back in the inkwell before taking the dagger. 

This part was never fun. Harry grit his teeth before sliding the blade lightly across his thumb, a drop of blood immediately forming, which Harry let fall next to his name. 

The blood slowly dissolved into the parchment, which then levitated and turned red for a few seconds before falling gently back down to the table. “Your identity is confirmed and documentation is accepted, Mr. Potter. Pending documentation from Mr. Aizawa, your position as heir is secured. Mr. Aizawa, if you would?”

Harry looked down to see that the silver blade had magically cleaned itself, so he held it out hilt first toward Aizawa. 

The man cautiously took the knife, glancing between it and the document once more before holding the knife out and sliding it across his thumb gently like Harry had. They both watched the blood fall, the parchment reacting exactly as it had with Harry’s. 

The man’s shoulders relaxed and he set the blade on the table above their documents, its blade parallel to the parchment as the goblin had done.

The goblin grinned. “Your identity is confirmed and your documentation accepted, Mr. Aizawa.” He turned toward Harry, adding, “Congratulations, Heir Potter. Is there any other business you have with Gringotts today?”

Thank Merlin. 

He could destroy the Black artifacts, now, and make sure nothing they’d made could ever hurt anyone again. 

First things first, though. They had to figure out what was happening with the wards. “I would like to request access to all Black properties.” 

“Of course. One moment please and I will return with the requested portkeys.” The goblin stood up and gathered the papers before giving them a slight bow and exiting the room.

Harry sighed in relief as the door shut. “Thank goodness that went well.” 

“You thought it wouldn’t?” Aizawa turned to him incredulously. “You’d seemed confident that it would be a simple affair.”

“Well yeah, it _should_ be, but the goblins hate me.” 

Yamada snorted behind them. “That’s for sure. The guy seemed happier with Sho than with you.” 

Harry groaned. “I’m _trying_ to be nice, but they’re determined to hold a grudge.” 

Hitoshi snickered, “Given the ‘death to all thieves’ poem out front, you should probably be happy that they’re settling for passive hatred.”

Harry jumped as the side door opened again, the same goblin as before entering and holding out a large iron loop with several old keys hanging from it. “Here are your portkeys, Mr. Potter. Recite the name on each key and you will be taken to that property.” 

Harry quickly stood up and accepted the keyring, and the goblin continued, “Should the property’s front doors be accessible, each key can also manually unlock the appropriate building. You do not need to return them unless you wish for them to be placed back within the proper Black vaults. Is there anything else that I may help you with today?”

“No, thank you.” What had his name been again? The goblin out front had mentioned it… Kramper! “You have been very helpful, Kramper. May your gold always flourish and your enemies suffer.” 

The goblin grinned wide, revealing his sharp teeth. “To you as well, Mr. Potter. You may all see yourselves out at this time.” He gave them another short bow, then disappeared through the side door once more.

“Well he seemed happier after that cheery departing phrase.”

Harry snorted at Hitoshi’s snark, then slid the keys into his robe’s pocket. “Come on, let’s head outside. I don’t like being here longer than necessary.” Dealing with the goblins was always disconcerting, and Harry was never sure what to expect. Everything felt like it had gone too smoothly. Sue he’d done exactly what they’d said, but still… nothing ever went smoothly for Harry.

He had to be missing something.

But the goblin had said that Harry was officially the Black heir, and he’d given him portkeys to each of the properties, which the documents had said they could only give to acknowledged rightful heirs. 

So Harry had to be in control of everything. It really had all gone like he’d wanted.

Harry stopped on the bank’s front steps, making sure to reapply the notice-me-not spell on Aizawa, Yamada, and Hitoshi. Before he could turn to head back toward the pub, though, Hitoshi’s eyes widened and he hissed out a warning, “Harry! Your hood.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. 

Bloody hell.

“Mr. Potter!” 

Harry cringed. 

“It is you, isn’t it, Mr. Potter?!”

Slowly, he turned toward the voice. Immediately the people in the street froze as people looked his way. 

Shit! Harry grabbed Yamada and Aizawa’s arms, stopping the two heroes from moving in front of him. Making an obvious movement like that would ruin the effect of the notice-me-not charms. “Let me handle this. Just stay back.” The last thing Harry wanted was a huge debacle about him bringing muggles to Diagon. After all, the enclave’s wards weren’t even open to outsiders right now. And Merlin, Aizawa looked so much like a Black, people would draw the connection immediately. 

Steeling himself, Harry stepped toward the crowd. The person who called out to him was grinning now, shouting about how “he’d just known it had to be him” and “thank you so much for defeating that horrid wizard.” 

And then a little girl wanted to hug and thank Harry. 

Then an old man whose grandson had been at the Battle. 

Then a mother who had lost her daughter. 

A husband who had lost his wife. 

Hands reached out.

Arms circled around him.

They were everywhere, never stopping, touching him, pulling him into hugs, all he could do was smile, smile and nod, they just wanted to thank him they didn’t mean anything they weren’t holding him down it was just hugs, they weren’t grabbing him to capture him, it was just hugs, just hand shaking, no one was trying to get his wand, they were just being friendly just—

A shrill whistle filled the street. 

Harry’s head whipped to the right as fireflies appeared out of nowhere and began dancing through the crowd. A few of the fireflies landed on Harry’s shoulders and a wave of calmness passed through him. 

“Oi, Potter, you lousy rascal!” 

_George_.

Harry grinned. 

The redhead was standing on top of some crates, wearing his usual garish purple shop robes. “Everyone! Half off at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes for the next half hour in honor of Potter showing up! Tell my lousy brother I said he can shove it if he doubts you.” 

Shouts of joy filled the street and the fireflies flickered away, replaced seconds later by dragonflies that darted around and led the crowd down the alley. 

George hopped off the crates, his grin wide as he strode across the now empty street to reach them. “Looked like you were in a pinch there, mate.” 

Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thanks, George. Business is going well, I take it?”

“Bloody better be, with the hit this sale’s going to give my profits.” George winked at Harry, making his movements obvious as he gave Harry’s shoulder a gentle shove and then turned toward Harry’s companions. “Well, friend o’ mine, mind giving us some introductions? I assume this is the muggle Black ‘Mione said you went to go find?” George motioned toward Aizawa. 

Harry nodded, grateful that George wasn’t mentioning how panicked he’d been. “This is Shouta Aizawa, his husband Hizashi Yamada, and their son Hitoshi Shinsou. Umm…” Harry turned toward the three, “This is George Weasley. His family basically took me in once I came to the enclaves. He owns a joke shop further down.”

Hitoshi paused as he’d been about to give George a handshake, letting his hand fall back down to his side. “Nice to meet you, but with that warning I think I’ll pass on the shake.” 

“Aw, why’d you have to go and tell them that, Harry?” George groaned. “I was just going to have some fun.” 

“Right.” Harry snorted. “They deserved some sort of heads up.”

“Spoilsport.” George sighed, one hand over his heart as he swooned. “Alas! The camaraderie of my dear investor has perished!”

“Oh, shove it.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Is Ron at the shop, then?”

“Yeah, probably right pissed at me, too.” George grinned. “He was about to go on break when I heard people whispering your name outside and decided to come rescue your heroic self.” 

A laugh burst out of Harry. “I best not keep you long, then. I’ll try to stop by your Mum’s tomorrow, alright?”

“Spoiling us with an advanced warning? Aren’t we privileged.” George ruffled Harry’s hair before reaching back to yank up Harry’s hood. “Don’t forget that again, and I’ll be holding you to that visit. Mum’ll be on a warpath if I give her a promise like that and you don’t follow through.” 

“I’ll do my best.”

“That you better!” George winked again, then turned toward Aizawa and the others. “You lot should come, too! Don’t hide away; any family of Harry’s is always welcome at the Burrow.” 

And then George disapparated, no doubt to cause yet more chaos at his shop.

Harry turned to see the Aizawa, Yamada, and Hitoshi staring at where George had been.

Hitoshi laughed, shaking his head. “I think I understand now why you’ve always been able to relax more around Ki and his friends.”

Huh? “I have?” He hadn’t noticed. 

Hitoshi nodded. `”I think you’re just tense around Midoriya because of the magic thing, but even though Bakugou and Kirishima have red eyes, you’re still able to relax around the others as long as those two aren’t closest to you.” 

Oh. Harry didn’t know what to think of that.

“The Burrow?” Aizawa was frowning, clearly annoyed at not knowing something.

“That’s the name of the house where the Weasleys live. Wizards always name their homes—like how we’re staying at Grimmauld Place.” 

“Well the Burrow is certainly more welcome sounding!” Yamada grinned. “We should probably get out of here now, though.” 

“Right.” Harry looked around. A few people were starting to wander the streets again, but no one seemed to have noticed them yet. Probably because of the notice-me-nots on the others. “We’ve left the bank wards, so I could just apparate two of you back from here, or we could head to the pub or even George’s shop, I guess…” They’d be safest there, but Harry’s presence was also likely to cause the most stir there, too… especially now that people were aware that he had been seen in Diagon. They’d assume he wouldn’t leave without talking to George.

“Take Hitoshi and Sho, then come back for me.” Yamada gave his husband a small smile. “Sho stands out since he looks so much like this Black family, right?”

Reluctantly, Aizawa nodded. “Just be fast about it.” 

“Of course.” 

Harry grabbed their hands and then disapparated, pulling them both along with him. His feet had barely touched the ground before he released their hands and was back in Diagon Alley, making Yamada jump. 

“Shit!” Yamada clutched at his heart. “That was fast.” 

Harry grinned, reaching out to take hold of Yamada’s arm. “Apparating to Grimmauld from here is easy.” And then he disapparated. 

They landed in Grimmauld safely, and Yamada grinned at his husband. “See? I was barely alone for even a second. There was no need to worry.”

Aizawa sighed. “You’d still manage to find trouble somehow.” 

Harry shook his head, but then his eyes fell on the green book sitting on the coffee table where he’d left it this morning. “Kreacher!” 

The house elf appeared instantly, and Harry turned to him. “Did Hermione have a chance to reply, yet?”

Kreacher nodded. “Miss Granger will be able to assist you this afternoon. She said she would arrive at one. Will Masters require lunch beforehand?” 

“That would be lovely, Kreacher, thanks.” Harry ran a hand through his hair as the house elf disappeared. He’d much rather get a start on checking out the houses now, but he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to wait a few hours so that he could have some back-up. “You all can feel free to check out the library more or look around the house, I suppose. Sorry I can’t be a better host, but I should study the spells for the wards.” 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Hitoshi grinned at him. “I’m happy with the opportunity to go back and look at some of the books.” 

Well, as long as he was happy. “Just don’t touch the books about monsters, and shout for me or even Kreacher if you need anything.” 

“Got it!” Hitoshi was already in the stairwell, his voice echoing back down. Harry sighed, then went over to the couch and picked up the book. Might as well get started. 

“Do either Cygnus or Druella Black have a portrait?”

Huh? Harry looked over to see Aizawa standing in front of the family tree again, Yamada hovering beside him. Cygnus and Druella… oh. those would be Aizawa’s grandparents. “I don’t know. Most likely they do, though. The portraits outside would know.” 

Aizawa nodded. “I’ll ask. Thank you.” 

Harry wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but it’s not like he could stop Aizawa if that’s what the man really wanted. “Don’t let anything they say get to you, ok? They can be nasty.” He’d heard enough of Walburga’s and Bellatrix’s insults to know the family didn’t hold back when they hated someone. Sirius, too, considering how he’d treated Snape.

Black eyes studied Harry for a few seconds, making him fidget. Why was Aizawa staring at him? But then Aizawa nodded again and left the room, Yamada oddly quiet as he followed. 

Harry supposed it must be weird for Aizawa, being here and knowing that if things had turned out differently, this might be his home. Maybe the portrait would help somehow. Hopefully.

Aizawa had Yamada with him, though, and Harry couldn’t worry about that right now. He had to focus on the wards. 

Harry had taken a break at one point to change out of the robes and into a jean and hoodie, but he’d ended up studying through lunch (much to Kreacher’s dismay) before Harry was fairly sure he could cast the wards. 

They were bloody complicated, but Harry practiced with Grimmauld’s and it had seemed to go well. It took a lot out of him, though—renewing the wards was definitely not something that was meant to be done in a day. 

For not the first time, Harry was thankful that he was stronger than the average wizard. 

And then there was making sure that the Weasleys and Hermione and anyone else could access the properties, too. For right now Hermione would be entering with him using the Gringotts portkeys, so it should be fine, but if he wanted to bring anyone else back later, he would have to either key them into the wards or create the wards so that a specific object like the keys would allow someone to enter. It was dangerous if someone else stole the keys, of course, but it was probably necessary given that Harry could hardly envision getting all the Weasleys together this weekend so that he could connect their magical signatures to the wards.

Harry sighed, leaning back in the couch and staring at the ceiling in frustration. Why did everything have to be so bloody complicated?

“Everything ok?”

Harry looked over to where Hitoshi was reading a book on one of the chairs across from him. He’d come back downstairs a few hours ago with a stack of books, while Aizawa and Yamada had eventually emerged with a wizards chess board and were currently amusing themselves with that at a table by the window. 

Harry sighed. “I’m fine. The wards are just complicated, that’s all.” 

The fireplace flared to life, and Harry stood up eagerly as the flames rose and then Hermione stepped out, brushing off stray pieces of soot from her light jacket and jeans. She looked up, grinning when she saw him. 

“Harry!” 

And suddenly she was hugging him. It wasn’t… bad, he supposed. Nothing like the hugs in Diagon. Cautiously Harry returned the motion. 

“It’s so good to see you! You look great!” She pulled back, her smile bright. 

He looked great? Harry wasn’t sure what that meant. “It’s good to be back.” Harry was relieved that it actually _was_ good to see her, and he didn’t want to flee the room even though it now held four other people. 

Hermione stepped back and turned to Aizawa with a grin, holding out her hand. “And you must be Aizawa Shouta. Pleasure to meet you.” 

Aizawa blinked slowly, then took her hand and shook it. “You think I look like his godfather, too, don’t you.” 

Hermione laughed and let her hand fall back down to her side. “I’m afraid so. The resemblance is uncanny. Has Harry not shown you a picture?”

Aizawa blinked, then shook his head. “I wasn’t aware there were any. He didn’t seem to have a portrait, and his picture isn’t on the wall.” 

“We have regular pictures, too! Well, they move, so I guess not quite regular, but still.” Hermione turned to Harry, her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you show him any, for Merlin’s sake?”

Harry shrugged, rubbing his arm as he looked away from them. “The scrapbook’s been in my trunk, but I don’t really like to look at it, so…” 

Hermione sighed, her voice softening. “Of course. Maybe one day later, then.” 

“It’s good to meet one of Harry’s friends, Miss Granger!” Harry looked back over to see Yamada holding out his hand and then shaking Hermione’s. “I’m Yamada Hizashi, Sho’s husband. Over there’s our son, Shinsou Hitoshi. Harry’s been rooming with him while he’s been in Japan with us.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, as well.” Hermione smiled at the three of them. “Harry’s told me you’re all pro heroes?”

Hitoshi nodded, “I have one semester left of school, but I’ve passed my licensing exam already.” 

Oh. Harry hadn’t known that. 

“That’s wonderful!” Hermione was grinning now. “I looked up to heroes a lot before I moved to the enclaves. Will you be joining us as we search the properties?”

“Hermione!” How could she suggest that? “There could be all kinds of artifacts there or death eaters. It wouldn’t be safe.”

Brilliant.

Hermione was giving him the you’re-not-thinking look. 

Harry was too thinking! “They’re professional heroes. They could easily move faster than us and dodge the one spell a wizard _might_ have time to release before the wizard’s disarmed. As long as the three of them don’t touch anything or go into a room before we do, they’ll be fine. Besides, for all we know, you and I could be apparating into a den of death eaters, in which case additional back-up would be nice.” 

Yamada burst out laughing. “I like her!” 

Harry groaned. Not this argument again. “There aren’t that many death eaters left, Hermione.” 

“Which is why there’s a decent chance that the ones who are left might be working together.”

Bloody hell, why was she did she always make things sound so reasonable. “Aizawa’s quirk is useless on wizards, though.” 

“Oh?” Hermione turned to him, and Harry could already see her slipping into analysis mode. “What’s your quirk?”

“Erasure. I erase other quirks. It’s not my only skill, though.” He lifted up his scarf with one hand, offering her a smile that looked evil. “I can bind anyone in this in seconds.” 

Hermione nodded. “That would work really well for fighting wizards. Only the most powerful can do wandless magic without any motion at all.” Brown eyes turned to Yamada and Hitoshi. “What are your quirks, then? If we do end up fighting, we’ll all work best if we know each other’s skillsets.” 

“Hermione! I asked you to come so that they wouldn’t have to. They’re safer here.” 

“Yes, I know. You said that in your letter. You’re being completely ridiculous, though. More backup is always helpful. How many times have we wanted it in the past? And now we have it and you’re turning it away. It’s foolish.” Hermione turned toward the other three, “Prioritize dodging green lights—there’s a curse with that color that will automatically kill you if it touches you. Other than that, we have healers that will be able to help you on the off chance you get hit by something. I doubt that will actually happen, though. Wizards aren’t used to dealing with opponents who can dodge well.”

“Hermione, please be reasonable here. I don’t want to risk—”

“They want to help, though. Right?” She looked back toward the other three pointedly, and each one of them nodded. “There you have it. You’re always trying to refuse people’s help, Harry. It’s their decision whether or not they can help you, not yours. Stop trying to protect people while refusing to let others do the same.” 

Harry groaned, collapsing onto the couch and crossing his arms. “Fine. Do what you want.” 

“Good. Glad you’ve seen things my way.” Hermione sniffed, and Harry rolled his eyes at Hitoshi’s grin. “Now that that’s over, what are your quirks?”

Yamada laughed, then pointed at himself. “My quirk’s called voice. I can amplify the sound waves of my voice so loud that I can exceed 200 decibels.” 

Hermione paled. “That… would certainly have devastating effects.”

“Oh, don’t worry!” Yamada winked, “I usually stick around 100 decibels, depending on how close I am to the villain—just enough to disorient people, stop them from fighting, or knock them unconscious, but nothing that causes permanent damage.” 

“Right. That’s…” Hermione swallowed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously, “That’s definitely good. I’m glad you’re a hero.” She shook her head a little, then turned toward Hitoshi. “And you?”

Purple eyes turned to Harry, and he nodded. “You can tell her. She won’t judge you.” 

“Brainwash.” Hermione’s eyes widened, but other than that she didn’t react, silently waiting for Hitoshi’s explanation. “After a person responds to me verbally, I can order them to do whatever I want. It’s impossible for the individual to resist my control, but any outside impact will release them.” 

“That’s fascinating.” Hermione tugged gently at a strand of her hair, twirling it as she thought. “So in some ways it’s more powerful than our imperius, but you wouldn’t be able to maintain it easily for a long period of time, not with that release condition. And any verbal response will work? Even a laugh or something like that?”

Hitoshi nodded, a bemused smile on his face. “You’re only the second person that’s ever reacted that way. Usually people are afraid.” 

“Well that’s silly.” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “You want to be a professional hero, so you’re hardly likely to misuse it, and it’s much easier for you to be precise about the level of danger in your commands than I would think it is for Yamada-san to be precise with sound waves. Not that there isn’t difficulty in using precise language, but sound is a very difficult medium to control, so—”

Hitoshi burst out laughing, and Yamada followed him seconds later while Aizawa chuckled. Hermione looked between the three of them, completely confused, then back at Harry. “Was it something I said?”

“I don’t think people usually spend any time thinking about how dangerous Yamada-san’s quirk is.” 

The loud hero shook his head. “This is definitely the first time someone’s been more scared of my quirk than Hitoshi’s. Though it’s nice to have it recognized as dangerous.” He paused, his grin turning sharp. “Well, by an ally, at least. I’m fine with my enemies underestimating my quirk.” 

“I can imagine.” Hermione looked between the three of them for a second, then nodded. “Right. Well I can’t see any problem with the three of you coming to help.” She turned to Harry, “Are we ready then? Did you put any defensive spells on their clothing?”

Harry groaned. “No, because I didn’t want them to come with me.” He glared at her for a few seconds, but when she raised an eyebrow he sighed. “But most of the protections are still on their clothes from this morning, though reinforcing those couldn't hurt.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes and held out her wand. “I’ll do the honors, then.” 

“You can start with me.” Aizawa stepped forward, slouching a little and with his hands in his pockets. “Those two will probably want to go get some of their gear from their rooms.” 

“Thanks, Dad.” Hitoshi nodded, quickly moving toward the stairwell. “Be right back!” 

Yamada laughed as their son disappeared. “I’ve kept everything on me since this morning, so I’m good to go.” 

“You don’t have technology on you, right?”

They both shook their heads, though Yamada sighed. “I do miss it.” 

“It is an unfortunate downside of magic, I must admit.” Hermione flicked her wrist and began to cast, making Aizawa tense up and shiver as the magic fell into place. 

As Hermione then moved over to Yamada, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the keyring, staring at the five keys. 

Five properties. Well, four excluding Grimmauld, which they knew was safe. The keys each had a name engraved along their handles, but other than that, Harry knew nothing about them.

Grimmauld Place. 

Sevensterre Manor.

Maydes Park.

Wyretrees Lodge.

Ashenfield Court.

How much time had Sirius spent at those other properties? Did he have fond memories of any of them? He’d always seemed to hate Grimmauld so much… and which one had Aizawa’s mother lived in?

For not the first time, Harry wished he’d known the man longer. 

Voldemort had taken so much from him.

And yet… Harry looked up, studying the three muggles across the room as Hermione finished putting spells on Hitoshi. 

They weren’t the same. 

They could never be the same. 

But unlike the Dursleys, they acknowledged Harry. They didn’t treat him like a cast-off or like he was broken or famous.

He was just Harry. 

And when all this was over, Harry didn’t know if he could bring himself to say goodbye.

But that had been the plan all along, and Harry had duties here in England. Just because he’d made some new friends didn’t mean he could abandon his goals. 

He had to keep people safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!! This chapter ended up growing longer and longer, to the point that it really needed to be split into two chunks, so there are still two chapters left after this ;) As always, thanks so much for all the comments and kudos!! I really do appreciate them and it makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying my crossover universe :D 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	17. The Flighty Temptress, Adventure

Harry’s hand tightened around the silver key. “Everyone either hold onto the key or onto someone else, and keep a tight grip.” 

Hermione grabbed the key with Harry, taking Hitoshi’s hand with her other one, while Yamada and Aizawa each took hold of one of Harry’s arms. It was… ok. He was pretty sure he was ok. Maybe. Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and chase away memories of the snatchers grabbing him. “Maydes Park.”

Immediately there was a tug, yanking him off his feet and sending them all spinning as the portkey activated.

Harry stumbled as they landed, but Aizawa and Yamada didn’t, and their firm grips kept Harry from face-planting. 

Hermione took her hand away from the key while Hitoshi clutched his stomach next to her, looking around the room with wary eyes. 

Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. All the furniture was black, which wasn’t really a surprise, but while every piece at Grimmauld had been large, heavy, and embossed generously with gold, here the furniture was slender and decorated with delicate silver designs.

The air in the room was dead, and nothing moved.

Harry shuddered. It reminded him of Bathilda Bagshot’s home in Godric’s Hollow.

He pulled out his wand, trying to banish those memories.

The room had three doorways and the right wall held two windows, each looking out over a beach. Harry crouched, slowly moving toward the windows and peeking out over one’s ledge. 

He couldn’t hear the waves, but most enchanted windows didn’t bother with making the depth of the scenery this realistic. So silencio or something? Was the spell on the building, the windows themselves, or every room? “There might be a spell blocking sound, so everyone stay on guard.” 

“What do the wards tell you, Harry?” Hermione’s voice was quiet, barely even a whisper. “Has anyone been here?”

Right. The wards. Harry turned so his back was to the wall, then closed his eyes. He could feel the net. Maydes Park didn’t feel as big as Grimmauld. Maybe half the size? Its net wasn’t as tight, either, though it was still strong. The strands were frayed here, just like everywhere else but Grimmauld, and there was some sort of taint clinging to a few tears, but it felt old. “I think someone’s been here, but not recently. I can’t be certain, though, so you should all still be careful. Plus who knows if the Blacks left traps or not.” Harry pulled out his wand. “I’m going to improve the wards first, so we at least won’t have anyone joining us. Guard me, Hermione?”

“Of course.” 

Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes again in order to focus, and then then began the long list of spells that would strengthen the wards. With every word he could feel the net becoming stronger, each fiber weaving itself back into the unit. Harry pulled at Hermione’s magical signature and his own, connecting them to the wards as well as the key in his left hand.

Done, Harry’s arms fell back down to his sides. Merlin’s beard, he felt like he was an hour into quidditch practice from how much those spells had taken out of him.

“You alright?” Harry looked up to see Hermione frowning at him in concern. 

“‘m fine, don’t worry. Those are just bloody strong wards, that’s all. And they’ve decayed so much that the repair is taking a lot out of me.” Harry rolled his shoulders a few times and rubbed at his neck. “They’re done now, though, so no one can enter. Hermione, let’s check this place out to make sure no one’s here and see if anyone’s intruded.” 

She nodded and began casting spells on the doors to detect if there were any curses. “We should be safe to move into the next rooms.” 

“Brilliant.” Harry moved toward the one on the left, his hand pausing above the door handle as he turned back to look at the others. “You three stay here and keep an eye out the windows. Don’t. Touch. Anything. And _especially_ don’t open anything.” 

They nodded, the two older heroes moving to look out the windows while Hitoshi stood between them, his back to the wall so that he could stand guard and keep an eye on all three doors. Without a word, Hermione moved behind Harry, her wand held steady.

Harry let his hand fall onto the handle, pausing to make sure nothing happened before he pushed down and cracked the door open.

Silence. 

Harry looked through the slim opening, but all he could see was another empty room. Slowly he pushed it further and stepped inside.

Dust blanketed the room in a thick even layer. It was a bedroom, but whoever had last been here had left in a hurry—the bed was unmade and books were scattered over the desk, a letter laid open on the floor. Or maybe someone had been here searching through things?

Harry slowly walked over to look at the letter. It was from Rabastan, and looked like it had been written to Bellatrix.

Harry swallowed. 

This had been Bellatrix’s room? At least, when she hadn’t been at Malfoy manor? With the wards so frayed, she might have been able to get in without Sirius knowing… 

Bloody hell.

How long had these wards been in disarray? There’s no way Sirius had strengthened them while he was in prison, and he could hardly do so while he was an escaped convict, either. 

Grimmauld was probably the only property he’d been able to maintain. That’s why it’s wards had been healthier, not just because of the fidelius.

“Harry? What is it?”

His eyes shot up to meet Hermione’s. “Nothing. Just a personal letter, it looks like. There’s no addressee or anything.” She didn’t need to know what this place was. 

Bellatrix was dead. She couldn’t harm them any more. 

That didn’t mean someone else hadn’t been here since then, though. They should still be careful. 

Each room they entered, though, brought more of the same. 

And then they went to Sevensterre Manor. 

Harry could tell immediately someone had been there recently. The magical taint was practically clinging to strands of the frayed wards. “Hominem revelio!” 

Nothing. 

“Someone’s been here recently.” Had they just left? How recently had they been there? Would they be coming back? Harry quickly started strengthening the wards, speaking each word faster, but still keeping the intonation precise. 

He was out of breath when he finished, but the knot of worry in his stomach loosened slightly with the taint cleaned from each contaminated strand. Harry wiped at his brow. “Be careful.” 

Hermione started casting detection spells on each door, and they moved even more slowly than before. 

A window was broken in the first room, the desk drawers thrown onto the ground. The dust was scattered on the shelves, around the bed… “They were looking for something.” 

Hermione nodded. “We’ll have no way of knowing if they found it, though. Not until we catch them.” 

They moved on. Every room told the same story. Furniture was scattered, books tossed off shelves… whoever it was hadn’t been concerned about cleaning up after themselves. 

The name Sevensterre was apparently literal, as the manor held four floors, but seven staircases connected the floors. As they moved across the various floors, though, nothing else made a sound.

Once they were sure that Sevensterre was empty, they portkeyed to Ashenfield Court, which had the same fresh taint, making Harry’s stomach churn as he quickly moved to repair the wards, trying to ignore the drain on his magic. There was a second presence this time, too. It was fainter, though and felt more like a soft blanket rather than the toxic presence of the first magical signature.

Harry leaned against the wall for a few seconds. Bloody hell, every limb felt like lead. 

Only one left after this.

They had to make sure no one was still here. 

Harry pushed himself off the wall, ignoring the others’ worried looks. 

He was fine. 

Ashenfield apparently had numerous portraits, but whatever wizard had broken in had known a spell that had somehow blinded them, leaving each one incredibly offended. With knowledge of a spell like that, the wizard was most likely pureblooded, but that wasn’t surprising. 

By the end, Harry was tired of hearing each portrait rant and having to promise to avenge them. 

Avenging portraits was the least of his worries. 

Why was there a second signature? Why did it feel different? It’s not like a death eater would be hanging out with someone who used light magic. 

And what was this person looking for? The portraits said this house had been empty for some years because it had been promised to Andromeda upon her marriage, and no one had wanted to touch it after she was blasted from the family tree. 

So why search here? Were they looking for something from before Andromeda’s marriage? But what?

The answer certainly wasn’t at Ashenfield, and there was only one property left: Wyretree Lodge. 

The second they landed, Harry threw up. 

“Harry!” Hermione was next to him, her hand and Hitoshi’s on his shoulders.

Harry couldn’t focus on that, though.

He could feel the taint against his skin, lingering all around him. “Hominem revelio!” 

Nothing.

How was there nothing?! This magical signature felt like its owner had to be _right here_.

And the second signature was stronger this time, too, and each strand of the wards was coated with both. “He was here, and much more recently. And someone else was with him.” 

Harry strengthened the wards as quickly as he could, cleansing them and reweaving them with every flick of his wand. 

And then they were whole. 

Harry’s shoulders sagged and he swayed on his feet. 

Hitoshi’s hand grabbed his elbow, steadying him.

Harry wanted to collapse. 

He couldn’t relax, though. Not yet. There were ways to hide from hominem revelio, after all. Whoever it was could still be here. 

Judging from the window, Wyretree seemed to be in the middle of a forest, not that the location was too surprising, given its name. Unlike the others properties, though, Harry could still hear birds chirping outside. Was the property exit not warded, then? It wouldn’t be if the whole area was part of the enclave. 

No use worrying about that now, though. Harry looked around the room at the overturned furniture. Unlike the other places, there were also signs that the death eater had stayed here with his companion—two chairs were pulled out slightly from the table, the fireplace had fresh soot, and dirt and a few leaves were scattered around the doorway. 

Harry quietly walked around the room, pausing when he noticed a wizarding map on the counter that showed Wyre forest, an X drawn and labelled as the home, and then the enclave’s ward line drawn in the distance.

So they had access to the outside… the whole forest wasn’t within the Black wards, though, and only a portion of it was within the enclave. 

Harry looked out the window, frowning. If they were outside—

And then the wards pulsed, heat surging through Harry and then lashing out, followed by a shout of surprise—

Harry was running. 

He was out the front door in seconds, Hermione and the others right behind him. 

A few yards away there was a man captured by vines and tied to a tree, all the foliage around him thrumming with magic.

“Rookwood.” Harry had seen the death eater once before at the Department of Mysteries, but there was no mistaking him.

Hermione reached into her pocket, her other hand holding her wand steady and pointed straight at the death eater. 

As they watched, however, the vines fell away, falling motionless to the ground.

“Expeliarmus!” Harry’s wand was aimed at Rookwood, but nothing happened.

The man laughed, a dark, harsh sound. “I gave those bloody aurors the slip and then who do I find? The bloody Savior of Britain and his mudblood tramp.” 

“Don’t call her that!” The aurors? Hadn’t they been looking for Rookwood in London? With apparition, traveling long distances was easy, though.

“Petrificus Totalus!” 

Harry swore Hermione’s spell struck the wizard, but again, nothing happened. 

Rookwood grinned, pulling a locket out from underneath his shirt. “Cygnus told the Dark Lord something a long time ago, you know. The Black’s had been experimenting. Old Cygnus and Dorea thought it wasn’t right that muggles got to have the power from quirks—not when we’re better than them.” 

“What are you talking about?” The Blacks had been envious of quirks? That made no sense. The Blacks hated muggles. 

“They got ahold of some brat that had a quirk that wouldn’t let magic affect her. Almost like the one I found, except mine is stronger—she actually destroys any magic she touches.” 

Bloody hell.

Aizawa froze next to him. 

Melanippe.

“They used this muggle’s blood to create this amulet, but then they lost the bitch, and no one wanted to actually _leave_ the enclaves to find a different quirk to use, especially the Dark Lord crucioed them for their little project—turns out he hated the idea of using muggle abilities.” 

Harry felt sick. 

The Blacks had hated Melanippe for her quirk, but they’d also realized how useful it would be for a wizard. It was an automatic shield. They’d used her blood and… 

Harry fought against the urge to hurl for the second time that day.

“The Dark Lord’s gone now, though, and I already knew of the perfect muggle to use. It took me forever to find the amulet, of course, but I did!” Rookwood laughed. “So what are you going to do now, Potter?! Any magic you send at me will be destroyed. You can’t touch me! A whole band of aurors just tried and failed!” 

Rookwood raised his wand, but a knife flew through the air, pinning his sleeve to the tree behind him. When Harry looked over at Hitoshi, his left hand was on his capture weapon, another knife already held loosely in his right.

Between them, Aizawa’s hair was lifting off his shoulders, his eyes glowing red. “Then it’s a good thing we don’t need magic to take you down.” 

Rookwood’s eyes darted between Yamada, Aizawa, and Hitoshi as they moved in front of Harry and Hermione. “What in Merlin’s name, Potter?! You brought filthy muggles into the enclaves?!”

Yamada cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a shout. Harry’s hands clamped over his ears, wincing as Rookwood fell to his knees from the noise, his sleeve ripping as he jerked his arm free from the knife. Immediately Aizawa’s capture weapon was surrounding the death eater, wrapping him tight. 

Aizawa stalked up to the wizard, yanking the amulet over the death eater’s head with his left hand while using his right to hold tight onto his capture weapon. Rookwood stared at Aizawa, terrified. “Who are you?! All… all the Blacks are dead!” 

Aizawa ignored him. 

The hero was staring at the amulet in his hand, anger twisting his face. Aizawa’s jaw was tight, but his eyes turned black once more as he looked back at Harry and tossed him the amulet. “One of you should probably hold onto this.” 

Harry’s fingers circled around it, and he turned it over only to freeze in shock. 

There was blood in the center compartment. 

Harry swallowed. 

It could be Melanippe’s blood kept fresh for all these years, or… and probably more likely, the blood was how the amulet connected to an individual’s quirk, which meant this was Bailey’s. 

“Where is Cynthia Bailey?” Aizawa’s eyes were glowing red again as both his hands pulled the capture weapon tighter, keeping Rookwood bound and upright.

“I don’t know, ok?! If the brat’s not in the house she escaped again. Do you know how hard it is to hold someone when you can’t use magic on her _and_ she’s got accidental magic?! It’s been bloody near impossible.”

Harry looked up in surprise. “What do you mean, she has accidental magic?” That didn’t make any sense!

Rookwood spat at the ground. “I mean the sick freak—” 

Harry flinched, Uncle Vernon’s voice roaring ‘freak’ over and over and over again, filling his mind—

“Harry?” A quiet voice. Nothing like Uncle Vernon’s roar.

Hitoshi was looking at Harry in concern. “I’m fine.” A quick glance showed that everyone else was still focused on Rookwood, who in turn was now cowering against the tree as best he could, despite being caught in Aizawa’s grasp.

Hermione was asking what Rookwood meant about having both magic and a quirk. Right. That shouldn’t be possible. 

But there was Midoriya. 

Rookwood sneered. “I’m not answering a mud—”

Aizawa’s knee rammed into his stomach.

Rookwood groaned, coughing for a few seconds before he looked up and glared at the hero. “I don’t know how it’s bloody possible, alright?! I just know she has both. She never showed any magic the first time we caught her, though that’s probably how she escaped the ropes we’d been using. But this time she keeps having fits of accidental magic.” 

Bloody hell. Nothing could be straightforward, could it?

Rookwood laughed at their stunned expressions. “She’s been getting stronger, too. You’ll never be able to find her.” 

“Stronger?”

“It used to be the monster could only escape once every few days, but lately it’s been every bloody day.” 

Why would her accidental magic get stronger, though? Harry was so confused. 

“She’s alive, though?” Harry’s hand tightened around the amulet. It didn’t make sense. Rookwood already had Bailey’s blood. If she kept escaping, why hadn’t Rookwood just killed her? 

The death eater sneered. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Aizawa’s hand shot out, grabbing the man’s hair and lifting him to eye level. “Answer him. Is the girl alive?”

“Yes! Yes, ok? The amulet’s like the polyjuice potion. I had to keep her alive so I could have fresh blood.” The death eater sneered. “Of course, I’d rather have killed her. Filthy muggle trash that she is.” 

Aizawa thrust Rookwood up against the tree, making him gasp in pain as the back of his head slammed against the bark. “You said we wouldn’t find her, but if she does this often, you’ve found her in the past. Where would Bailey go to?”

“I don’t know! She’s a freak! Who knows where she went this time!” 

Damn it. Harry pulled out his wand, “Point me Cynthia Bailey.”

His wand spun in his hand, refusing to stop. Damn it! Of course magic wouldn’t work. 

Rookwood was laughing harder now. 

Harry glared at the death eater. “How did you find her?!”

Rookwood grinned. “Threatening her family always works. You lot are too _good_ to do that, though.” The man kept laughing.

Aizawa tossed him onto the ground. 

“I’ve contacted the aurors and they should be on their way.” Hermione pulled a galleon out of her pocket, showing it to Harry before letting it drop back down. Harry grinned. Of course Hermione had thought ahead. What would he ever do without her? “There will be plenty of backup to help us search. We’ll find her, Harry. Don’t worry.” 

“Right.” Harry nodded, looking out into the woods. The more time they waited, though, the further Bailey could travel, or the more likely something else in the forest attacked her. She was weak, and likely cut in multiple places. If something smelled her blood…. 

He couldn’t let that happen.

“Hermione, you wait here for the aurors, I’m going to go find her.” Before she could respond, Harry was running, leaping into the air, and then darting through the foliage as a crow. 

Harry immediately dipped a bit, almost running into a branch before veering to avoid it.

Bloody hell, it was hard to fly when he was this tired. He could always see and hear so much better in this form, though, and maintaining it didn’t take any magic, only the transformation itself, so he should be ok.

Harry looked everywhere as he weaved through vines and around trunks. It almost felt like he was back at the UA gyms again, except this time he wasn’t merely flying for fun. 

Harry forced his wings to move faster. 

Rookwood didn’t seem to think she’d gotten far. She was a frightened little girl, but also desperate, and who knows what accidental magic—there!

Harry darted down, landing next to a piece of fabric that had torn on a branch. He had to still be within the enclave, which meant this was probably Bailey’s. But how long ago had she been here? Was this tear from today, or another time she had escaped? 

Harry looked around, trying to find another clue—footprints! He hopped over to study them. The tracks were thankfully clear as day in the soft forest dirt. In her rush, she hadn’t been trying to disguise her path path at all. 

Harry flapped upwards again, then started following the trail of footprints, broken twigs, and trampled leaves. 

And then he reached a stream.

What the hell. 

She wasn’t even ten! How did she think to use the stream to hide her trail? 

Harry flew over the water, watching the banks for any sign of life.

He sighed in relief when he saw a large damp patch of dirt not too far off, with wet footprints leading further into the woods. 

Harry banked to the left, following the new trail, and it wasn’t too long before he picked up soft sobs. 

And then he saw her. 

Cynthia Bailey was curled up against a tree, her leg twisted at an angle. Had she broken it in a fall somehow? She had cuts and bruises all over her, plus a deep gash in her shoulder. 

Harry landed on the tree branch overhead and she looked up, staring at him with red-rimmed eyes. There were twigs and leaves tangled in her long brown curls, and dirt smudged across her clothes and skin. 

Bailey sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. “Have you come to be mean to me too, Mr. Crow?”

Harry tilted his head to the side, then let out a soft caw. He could do this. It was like talking with that 3A kid, but even easier because she couldn’t actually understand him if he said something wrong.

Her eyes were still frightened, but they grew less cautious as the seconds passed. Harry released another caw, and the girl even gave him a soft smile. “You’re just a crow, I guess.” 

Bailey looked back down at her arm, and Harry cautiously descended from the branch, landing a few feet away from her. 

Hazel eyes were staring at him again, and she was frowning now. “Shoo! Shoo, Mr. Crow. He won’t be happy when he finds me. And my leg’s hurt now. I don’t know if I can run away again.” She sniffled again, rubbing at her nose and smearing more dirt across her cheek. 

Harry hopped closer.

“Shoo, Mr. Crow!” 

He cawed. 

Bailey slowly reached out to him, and Harry stayed frozen. 

She stroked his neck. “You should go. I guess you don’t know better.” 

Harry heard the leaves rustle behind him, and looked back to see Aizawa standing there. 

The girl scrambled back against the tree, eyes wide in alarm. “Who are you?!”

Aizawa stayed where he was, slowly kneeling down while opening both hands to show her they were empty. “You’re Cynthia Bailey, right? I’m here to help you.” 

“You’re lying!” The girl shook her head. “You’re with that man, aren’t you? You want to hurt me more!”

Harry eyed the leaves that were beginning to shake all around them. 

This wasn’t good. 

Aizawa was watching them too, and he moved back a foot, keeping his hands visible the whole time. “I’m not here to hurt you. See, I don’t have a stick like that man.”

“How do you know about the stick?” The leaves shook more. “No one knows about those! Mommy said I imagined them, but then he came back!” 

“I’ve been chasing him.” Aizawa’s voice staid calm and steady as he watched the leaves begin to rise. “I’m a pro hero and I’ve been helping the police find him. He won’t hurt you ever again.” 

“You’re lying!” Wind blasted past Harry, crashing into Aizawa who flew backwards, slamming into a tree.

Bloody hell! 

“Dad!” Hitoshi appeared out of nowhere, suddenly right next to his father, who groaned, pushing his son’s arm away.

“I’m fine.” 

Harry couldn’t let Aizawa get close again. Bailey was too scared and her accidental magic was feeding off that fear. 

Wait. If both of them were here, who was holding the capture weapon around Rookwood? Yamada? Harry shook his head in frustration. He couldn’t worry about that right now.

Cautiously, Harry turned back to the girl and hopped closer. People liked animals when they were upset, right? Holding Death to Rodents had been nice. 

Bailey was crying again. “I don’t want to hurt people! Just stay away! I’m not safe!”

Harry dared to get even closer, then nudged her hand with his head.

The girl’s crying paused. Hazel eyes peaked out from under her hands. “Mr. Crow?”

And then she was hugging him.

Shit.

Ok.

He… he could do this. 

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The contact wasn’t as bad in this form. It was warm, but a good warmth. He didn’t really like it and still wanted to flap free, but it wasn’t terrible. Just restricting. Unpleasant. 

But Bailey was still crying. What was Harry supposed to do? He was a bird! Birds weren’t exactly cuddly or anything. So what should he do?

Aizawa and Hitoshi were sitting a few meters away, watching them. Was Yamada here somewhere? Or was he still with Rookwood? The death eater didn’t have the amulet anymore, since that was still with Hermione. Harry still hoped the other hero had stayed with her. Hermione could handle herself just fine, but it was always good to have backup. 

Harry blinked.

There… there was a hand on his head. Was she petting him?

He turned his head around to look at her again and she squeezed him tighter for a few seconds, her hand then shifting to scratch him around his neck where the UA student had. Harry melted.

Why did this always feel so good?

The girl let out a watery laugh, then hiccuped. 

While her fingers kept rubbing Harry, her tears were slowly trickling to stop. Slowly, she looked over at Aizawa. “You’re really a hero? The man’s gone?”

Aizawa nodded. “We’re here to help you, Bailey. It’s over. He won’t ever hurt you again.” 

The girl looked down, frowning. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” 

“I know. It’s ok, I don’t blame you. You were scared.” 

She nodded. 

“Can I carry you back to the police?”

Bailey looked uncertain. “Are they at that house?”

“No.” 

“Good!” Bailey kicked a stick by her foot. “I don’t want to go back there.” 

“Understandable.” Aizawa took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “We can figure something else out.” 

They sat there, the silence occasionally broken by her sniffles. Eventually, her grasp on Harry began to loosen. “Thank you, Mr. Crow. I’m sorry I squeezed you.”

Harry hopped back a little the second she released him, but he didn’t want to leave just yet. Not in case she started crying again.

“Do you like birds?” Hitoshi’s voice was soft and soothing, like one of those recordings Aunt Petunia’s friends always had recommended that she listen to as she went to sleep. 

Bailey nodded. “I read about them and watch movies about them a lot, but mommy won’t let me have one.” 

“That’s sad. I have lots of cats. Animals are nice to have around when you’re hurt or scared, aren’t they?”

She nodded, sniffling a little again. “I want my mommy. And my daddy.” 

“We can take you to them.” Aizawa was speaking again, his voice as calm and cautious as before. “Do you mind if I get closer?”

Bailey sniffed and shook her head, raising her arms to be picked up.

Aizawa sighed in relief, but then as he shifted to stand up, he winced and froze. Hitoshi immediately reached out, supporting Aizawa and helping him stand, worry lining his forehead Aizawa’s hand clenched around his shirt over his ribs. 

“Did I hurt him?” Bailey’s voice was soft and near tears. 

All the worry vanished from Hitoshi’s face as he smiled at the girl. He held up one hand next to his mouth fake whispering to her, “He’s getting old, but doesn’t ever want to admit it. Do you mind if I carry you instead?” 

The girl giggled and nodded while Aizawa rolled his eyes. “I heard that, you brat.” 

“Well it’s true.” Hitoshi slowly pulled back from his father, then walked toward Bailey, pausing to make sure she was still ok with the contact before he lifted the girl up into his arms. 

Relieved, Harry let out a caw, then flapped up into the trees. 

Bailey smiled, waving at him. “Bye, Mr. Crow!” 

Right. Time for ‘Mr. Crow’ to leave and Harry Potter to come out, otherwise they would have no way of finding a way out of the enclave. 

Harry flew a few trees away until he was sure he was out of sight, then descended, landing on the ground fully clothed in human form. He could use point me to find the town, but pulling out his wand around Bailey probably wouldn’t be a good idea. He’d never been there, so apparition wouldn’t work, plus it was outside the enclave, but Bailey’s quirk would probably destroy the wards…

Harry sighed. So much for staying in human form. He’d be able to reach the clearing and Hermione faster as a bird, and the sooner he came back, the better. 

With a deep breath, Harry shifted again and darted through the foliage. He was taking a different, more direct path this time, so there was a chance that he’d overshoot the group, but with his better hearing—

There! Hermione’s voice. 

Harry veered to the left, stopping behind a tree to shift back before he stepped out into the clearing.

Rookwood was tied up in ropes now, with two people standing on either side of him in auror uniforms. Hermione was talking to them, but she looked up the second Harry came into sight. “Harry! Did you find her?”

He nodded. “Aizawa-san and Hitoshi-kun are with her right now.” Harry looked around the area, confused. “Where’s Yamada-san?”

Hermione frowned. “He left with Shinsou after the aurors arrived.” 

He did? Then… “Point me Yamada.” Harry’s wand twirled, pointing back toward where Bailey and the others were. “I guess he was staying hidden, then.” Harry shrugged, slipping his wand back up his sleeve into its holster as he turned to Hermione. “We’re going to take Bailey to the muggle police so she can be reunited with her family—since her quirk destroys magic, she’ll probably create a hole in the enclave wards just by walking through them. Someone will need to come behind us to fix the wards, and then we’ll need a portkey to come back inside.”

“Of course.” Hermione frowned, reaching into her bag no doubt to pull out something that could be a portkey. 

“Oi, Potter!” 

Harry glanced over to see one of the aurors walking toward them. This guy definitely looked familiar. Who… 

“Marcus Turner, I was the Ravenclaw prefect three years ahead of you two.” 

Ah. Harry smiled awkwardly. “Good to see you again.”

Turner stared at him for a few seconds, then shook his head with a sigh. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

Harry winced. “You look familiar, at least?”

_”Harry!”_ Hermione groaned. “He was one of the prefects who always confiscated those horrible badges during the tournament.” 

“Oh.” Harry dimly remembered that a few prefects had been doing that—everyone had hated him so much at the time, it hadn’t really done much other than make those prefects hated, too. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, mate! That whole situation was bad.” The auror ran a hand through his hair, feeling awkward. “Anyway, I can fix the wards after you go through. It’ll just be a patch up job, but it’ll do for now.” 

“Brilliant.” Wait. “There’s likely a hole wherever Rookwood first brought her through, as well.” 

Turner sighed, “We’ll look into it, thanks.” 

“Here, Harry.” Hermione held out a galleon, making Harry grin. “This will take you to Grimmauld when you’re done. Same key word as before.” 

“Thanks, Hermione.” Harry accepted the galleon, slipping it into his pocket . “Accio map!” The door flew open, letting the map from the counter fly straight into Harry’s hand. “I’m going to head back to the others now so we can help this girl home. You can follow me, Turner, but stay disillusioned or out of sight. Bailey doesn’t need to see a wizard right now” 

Harry made his way back into the trees, slipping the portkey into his jacket pocket. He paused, realizing he couldn’t remember what route he’d taken to get there. 

Harry sighed and pulled out his wand. “Point me Aizawa.” Well, that worked, thankfully. Harry followed the path as quickly as he could, always mindful of the auror behind him. Several times Harry almost tripped over tree roots or banged his head on low-hanging branches, but he thankfully didn’t make too big a fool of himself. After not too long, Harry could hear Hitoshi’s voice, so Harry put away his wand and followed that instead, smiling when he heard Bailey giggling.

It was good that she could laugh. 

“Yo.” Yamada was leaning against a tree, using its profile to keep him out of Bailey’s sight. “Did you go get the map?”

Of course the hero had noticed the map in the lodge and figured out Harry’s plan. “Yes.” He held it up, “I’m not entirely sure where we are now, though. The house and Buttonoak are marked on it, though, as well as the ward-line.” 

Yamada rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “You wizarding lot are hopeless. Give it here.” 

Harry shrugged as he handed it over. He could read a normal map just fine, but it’s not like the forest looked any different no matter where you were. 

Yamada squinted up at the sky, looking back at it, then the map, and then stepping away from the tree to eye its shadow for a few seconds. “Alright, I think I know well enough where we are. It shouldn’t be too hard to find the river again, anyways, and once we’re there we can follow it until we find a better landmark.”

Brilliant. 

Yamada frowned, rubbing his chin in thought. “Can you do the crow thing?”

Hesitantly, Harry nodded. He didn’t like for his form to be common knowledge, and Hermione _had_ registered him with the ministry, but she’d also buried the information under multiple clearance levels. 

“Awesome! Do that and ride on my shoulder. More people will make Bailey uneasy, but she’s already met you as a bird and liked you. If you return with me, she’ll likely accept my presence well enough. Do you mind if she holds you again?” 

Harry grimaced. He didn’t particularly like the idea of being held, but it had certainly calmed her down before. “If it will help.” Harry glanced back toward where Turner was disillusioned. Hermione trusted the Ravenclaw. That would have to be enough. 

Harry closed his eyes and shifted before flying over to Yamada’s shoulder, then clung to the man as he began to move. Thank goodness the charms they’d put on his clothing would prevent Harry from clawing up the man’s skin. 

“Hey, you two! I see you’ve found Bailey! That’s great!” Yamada was beaming and held his hand out to the little girl. “I’m Hizashi Yamada. I work on a team with these two.” 

Bailey clung to Hitoshi’s shirt, her eyes focused on Harry. “Is Mr. Crow yours?”

“Oh? You’ve met my little buddy?”

Bailey nodded. “He came and found me.” 

Yamada laughed, the sound quieter than usual, but still filled with the same booming joy. “He’s good at finding people, isn’t he? You want to hold him?”

Bailey nodded more firmly that time, releasing Hitoshi’s shirt to reach out toward Harry. 

Internally, Harry sighed. They needed to reassure her, and this would help. A hug wasn’t too bad. He launched from Yamada’s shoulders, circling over Hitoshi’s head before landing in the girl’s arms. 

“Mr. Crow!!” 

Bloody hell, that was loud. Harry shifted a little, trying to be careful to keep his claws from scratching her. 

“I have a map to Buttonoak and I was thinking we could take you to the police station there. Does that sound good, Bailey?” Yamada held up the map, and Bailey nodded frantically.

“Alright then, kid.” Aizawa reached out, patting the girl’s head. She beamed back at him. “Let’s get you home.” 

Small fingers rubbed at the feathers around his neck, and Harry closed his eyes, melting into the touch. 

Harry’s eyes slowly slid shut. Sitting like this, Harry couldn’t help but feel every ounce of the exhaustion seeping through his bones.

Maybe he could trust the pro heroes to get them through the wards. It wasn’t like Harry could give them any advice in this form, anyway.

He was so tired…

And the way Bailey was petting him felt so good…

Harry’s head bobbed forward and he let it rest against the girl’s good arm.

He could trust them.

He didn’t have to do anything right now.

Maybe… maybe he could actually rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!! Pretty sure a bunch of y'all were expecting them at one of the properties by this point ;) Hard to believe we're almost at the end! I want to try to finish this up before school starts, which is, well, Monday. So the wait for the next chapter shouldn't be too long! Thanks so much for every comment and kudo!!! I always appreciate them <3 <3
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


	18. Happiness Can Be Found

“You freak!!” 

Harry flinched back, his small body falling backwards onto the floor, only instead of hitting the floorboards, he crashed through them, landing on a dusty rug.

Uncle Vernon’s raised arm twisted, stretching out longer and longer until it transformed into Nagini lunging, fangs bared and flashing, but suddenly Harry couldn’t move, couldn’t roll away. He thrashed. Nagini was all around him constricting him, he needed to get free he needed to—

Harry rolled, landing on a hard floor. His wand flew to his hand and he jumped up pointing it straight—

At no one. 

There was no Nagini.

Harry blinked, confused. His eyes darted around the room. 

This wasn’t Godric’s Hollow. 

This was his room. He was at Grimmauld Place.

Harry took a deep breath.

Right. 

He’d been staying here with Hitoshi, Aizawa, and Yamada. 

Harry’s eyes widened. 

“Hitoshi!” Bloody hell, he hadn’t hit him with anything, had he? Harry reached for his glasses, quickly shoving them on his face.

Slowly, a head peaked out from around the doorframe. “You good now?”

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”Harry frantically scanned Hitoshi’s figure.

“I’m good. You tossed me across the room when I tried to wake you up, but it’s not like that’s anything I don’t know how to deal with. I left the second you got your wand.” 

“Thank Merlin you’re ok.” Harry collapsed on his bed in relief. He’d been about to cast expelliarmus, which probably wouldn’t have done anything to Hitoshi unless he’d had a knife, but still. The thought of casting a spell against him made Harry’s chest hurt. 

“You want to talk about it?”

Harry’s head shot up to stare at Hitoshi. 

The other boy shrugged, re-entering the room and shutting the door behind him. “That’s typically what people do after they have a nightmare. Or they get some water to distract themselves or something. We can do that, too.” 

Oh. Water actually sounded nice. “Kreacher.” 

The house elf appeared immediately, a cup of water already in hand. Harry smiled weakly as he accepted it. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, Master Potter.” Kreacher bowed his head a little, then disappeared. 

Hitoshi stared at where Kreacher had been. “You know, I’m pretty sure part of the whole point of getting water is to move around and such, but I guess that works.” 

Harry shrugged. 

Silence descended over the room.

Hitoshi moved closer, sitting down at the desk next to Harry’s bed. “You have nightmares a lot, don’t you? You take that potion every night, after all.” 

Merlin, Harry had been so drained from putting up the wards, he’d forgotten to take Dreamless Sleep. He’d barely woken up to transform back and use the portkey. “Sorry I forgot to take it. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Hitoshi sighed, then motioned to himself, “Do I even look like I’ve gone to sleep?”

Harry looked back up. Hitoshi was still wearing his clothes from earlier, and the candle on the desk was lit. Harry frowned. “You’ve been awake for how long, now? That can’t be healthy.”

“Neither can taking a potion so that you never dream.” 

Harry glared at him. “It’s either that or I don’t sleep at all. There’s not exactly a third option.”

Hitoshi frowned, purple eyes evaluating him. “I’ve had plenty of nightmares myself, you know. I understand being afraid to sleep—it’s pretty common with hero work.”

Harry looked back down at his lap. He didn’t know what to say. It made sense that Hitoshi had nightmares, too, but even just thinking about when the war… Harry shivered.

“Have you tried talking about it? That might help. It doesn’t have to be with me. We’re going to the Burrow tomorrow, right? You could talk to someone there.” 

Harry shook his head. “Not when that would make them relive things.” 

“Ok, then you can talk to me.” Calm purple eyes held steady as Harry looked back up to meet them. He’d never really thought about talking to someone about everything. Sure Hitoshi had fights and probably nightmares, but could he really understand what Harry had gone through? 

Harry closed his eyes. He could try. “I was five in the dream.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes widened. “So the nightmare was about before you got to the enclaves?”

Harry nodded. “Partially. My aunt and uncle hated magic, which meant they hated me. Of course, I didn’t know at the time _why_. I thought they called me a freak because I was quirkless.” It’s not like other people hadn’t told him that exact thing. “When I was five, though, I did accidental magic. My aunt had cut my hair, but I’d hated it, and it had grown back the next morning. I was so excited. I thought I actually had a quirk.” 

Harry laughed, his voice humorless. “I ran to tell them, and my aunt screamed the second she saw me. My uncle backhanded me.” Harry swallowed. “He only ever hit me that once, so it wasn’t that bad. I learned to hide the magic after that.” Harry had managed. That morning, though, he’d been so excited one moment, then terrified the next, not understanding why his aunt and uncle had reacted that way…. Harry hated that moment. Every second of it was burned into his memory. 

“Your aunt and uncle sound like horrible people, honestly.” 

Harry snorted. “They were the worst. Their son, too. I ran to the enclaves the second I had the chance.” 

Hitoshi winced. 

“Anyway, the dream started with that moment, only when I fell to the ground it shifted and suddenly I was in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Godric’s Hollow?” Hitoshi frowned, thinking for a second, and then his eyes widened. “Wait. Wasn’t that where your parents died?”

Harry nodded. It was always weird to him that personal details about his family were in history books. “It’s also where my parents’ graves are. I went there last Christmas, but Voldemort’s snake was waiting for me. She’d somehow possessed the body of this woman who knew my parents and she lured me to her house and attacked me.” Harry shuddered. “I thought… I felt like I was fighting her in the dream. Like she was constricting me. That’s probably when I threw you across the room.” Oh. Harry had never apologized for that? “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I’ve had way worse, believe me.” Hitoshi sighed. “That explains why my quirk wasn’t working, though. I was trying to grab control so that I could snap you out of the dream, but I couldn’t. You weren’t actually responding to _me_ you were hissing at the snake in your dream.” 

“Hissing?” Merlin, Ron had always told him it was creepy when he did that. “Sorry. I’m—well, I _was_ a parselmouth.” 

Hitoshi stared at him. “Yeah, sorry, haven’t run across that term yet, so you’re going to have to explain that one.” 

“I could talk to snakes. Turns out it wasn’t actually an ability I had, but an ability I could use because Voldemort stuck a shard of his soul in me, but—”

“What?!” 

Harry blinked. He went back over what he’d said. 

Oh. 

Harry frowned, looking at Ron’s Chudley Cannons poster on the opposite wall. “Let’s just say I can’t talk to snakes anymore and leave it at that.” 

“You had his _soul_ in you?! For how long?!”

Or they wouldn’t leave it at that. Harry shrugged, uneasy about discussing the horcrux. He hated thinking about it. “My whole life.” 

Hitoshi hissed out several words that Harry was pretty sure were Japanese curses. 

“It’s gone now, ok? I’m fine.” 

“You’re _not_ fine.” Hitoshi huffed, frowning at Harry. “You know we don’t believe you when you say that. I imagine your other friends probably don’t, either.”

Harry frowned. “Ok, well I’m better than I was, at least.” 

“Yeah, because you’re not sharing your body with some psychopath’s _soul_.” 

Harry sighed. Clearly this whole ‘talking about it’ thing was a mistake. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just take my potion and go to sleep.” 

“Wait.” Hitoshi stood up, blocking Harry’s path to his trunk. “Sorry for getting sidetracked, I just wasn’t expecting that. So you were talking to the snake in the dream, then. Could she understand you?”

“Well yeah.” Harry shrugged. “The dream felt like I was back in that night, and I could still speak parseltongue then.” 

Hitoshi rubbed at his chin, thinking. “This is why you hate snakelike mutation quirks, huh? No wonder, really, when you’ve fought a snake that possessed a poor woman.” 

Harry nodded. “And Voldemort looked like a snake after he was reborn, so that doesn’t help.” 

“After he was…” Hitoshi shook his head. “Nevermind. So the murderous asshole looked like a snake, too.” 

“Yeah.” Harry took another sip of his water. “You know, it’s funny, usually in my nightmares I’m seeing through Nagini’s eyes, not being attacked by her.” 

“Seeing through her eyes?”

Harry nodded. “She had another piece of Voldemort’s soul in her, so I’d often see her perspective in my dreams. I’d see Voldemort’s, too.” 

“What the heck?!” Hitoshi stared at Harry incredulously. “That’s messed up.” 

“I know, right?” Harry shook his head. “And Voldemort knew he could do it, so he sent me fake visions or whatever, too, and that’ how Sirius died! I fell for Voldemort’s trap and he came to rescue me.” Harry curled up on the bed, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his forehead on his knees. “It’s why I hate the nightmares so much, honestly. They’re miserable to begin with, but then I wake up and remember having them before and falling for Voldemort’s trap and Sirius….” Harry stared at the bed, picking at the blanket’s edge. “There’s a lot I don’t like to think about.” 

The silence stretched on, but Harry didn’t know what to say next. He shouldn’t have said anything, probably. Hitoshi was leaving soon, and they’d never see each other again. What did he care about Harry’s nightmares?

“I think everyone has things that they don’t like thinking about.” Harry looked up to see that Hitoshi was gazing at the candle’s wax as it glistened but never melted. “When Dad and Pop first adopted me, I had a lot of nightmares, too. They were more like the way yours started—people called me names a lot because of my quirk, and they’d never respond to me. They called me a villain a lot, too. I’ve had several nightmares where I become one. Where I hurt Dad, Pop, or even Eri-chan.”

“You wouldn’t.” That much had been obvious from the first day Harry met Hitoshi. The other boy really did care about his adopted family.

Hitoshi looked up, meeting Harry’s eyes. “You were alone when you were young, but you’re not anymore. You’re stronger now, too.” 

Harry blinked. Alone? Sure he had been with the Dursleys, but Hermione… Harry thought back through the dream, confused. Hermione hadn’t been there. Was that really what he’d been afraid of?

“I’m sure it’s more complicated than just that, but I find it always helps to remember that other people are there for me.”

Harry shook his head. “But other people will just die.” Time and time again, they always had. 

“Not always. Sure, it’s a risk, but it’s a risk they’re willing to take. And it’s a risk that becomes less likely if you all work together.” 

Harry shrugged, then took another sip of water. “Working together doesn’t always solve things.” 

“But it helps.”

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Thanks. I’m going to try to go back to sleep.” 

Hitoshi stared at him for a few moments, then frowned and nodded. “Alright. You taking the potion?”

“At least for tonight, yeah.” Harry moved toward his trunk, undoing the latch so that he could grab one. “Talking was… nice, I guess, but I need the sleep and don’t want to risk having another nightmare.” 

“Makes sense.” 

Harry pulled out the potion, downing it as quickly as he could, then swaying as he went back to the bed. “What time is it, anyway?”

Hitoshi shrugged. “How should I know? There’s no clocks anywhere.” 

Oh. Harry pulled out his wand and cast tempus. Two am. Harry groaned, resheathing his wand as he rolled over. “Go to bed, Hitoshi.” 

Whatever his roommate said in response, Harry didn’t hear it. His mind was already slipping away into sleep. 

When Harry next woke up, it was to loud laughter in the hallway. 

His arm stretched out, feeling around on the nightstand for his glasses.

Across the room, Hitoshi pulled the pillow over his head, grumbling about loud fathers.

Oh. Yamada had been laughing about something. But what?

Harry slowly sat up, groaning. Everything felt sore, especially his arms. He’d pushed himself too hard with all that flying. 

The door swung open, and Yamada stood there in green slacks and a loose white sweater, his hair pulled back in a messy bun. “Alright, little listeners. The sun is shining and it’s time to get up! If we’re going to be back in Japan by midnight we need to leave here before five.” 

Right. 

Today was their last day here. 

“I should probably start working on one of the vaults or properties today… you three are free to leave whenever, though, really.” 

Yamada stared at Harry, and Hitoshi pulled the pillow off his head to look over at him as well. “You’re staying, then?”

Harry nodded. “There are things I need to do here.” 

Yamada sighed. “Alright, if that’s how you feel. You’re always welcome to come visit us, though!”

Harry nodded, but before he could say anything, Yamada suddenly grinned. “I know! Your friend invited us over to there place, right? I feel like we’ve only seen the bad side of this enclave of yours. Maybe you could take us there and show us some of the good things before we leave?”

Harry shrugged. He _had_ told George he would visit., and with the wards strengthened, a few hours delay couldn’t hurt. “Sure.” 

“Sounds awesome.” Hitoshi yawned as he sat up, stretching his arms above his head. 

Harry pulled out his wand and cast tempus. Half past ten. The Weasleys should all be awake by now… “We can go as soon as everyone’s ready, I guess.” 

“Alright!” Yamada gave Harry a thumbs up. “You two get dressed and I’ll go let Sho know the plan!” The man spun on his heel, pulling the door shut as he moved. 

“I won’t need to hide my eyes or hair around your friends, right?”

“You’ll be fine.” Harry stretched, then slid off the bed to plod over to his trunk. “Wear whatever you want, but something comfortable and easy to move in would probably be best.” Not that Hitoshi would be able to play quidditch if Ron wanted a match… eh, they’d figure something out. 

Harry rummaged around in his trunk, pulling out jeans and a sweater and then slipping those on. He looked over to see that Hitoshi had grabbed jeans as well, but opted for a black hoodie with some sort of purple cat on the front. 

When there was a soft knock on the door, Hitoshi called out for them to enter, and Harry was unsurprised to see that Aizawa was wearing the same outfit as always. Yamada’s arm was slung over his husband’s shoulder as he grinned at them. “We’re ready to go! Do we need to let them know that we’re coming?”

Harry shook his head. “I’ll just take two of you and then come back for the third. They’ll hear the apparition noises and see us walking up the path.” 

“Take them first.” Aizawa shrugged, “I don’t mind going last.” 

“Alright.” Harry reached out, grabbing first Hitoshi’s arm, then Yamada’s when the man moved closer.

And then he apparated, landing next to the lake, the ground around them filled with charred stumps. 

Harry ignored the ash beneath his feet. The Weasleys had rebuilt the parts of the Burrow that had been damaged by death eaters, and the plants would grow back. The ash didn’t matter. 

Harry apparated back to Grimmauld, but paused. 

Aizawa was leaning against the wall, his face pinched in pain, though it smoothed out the second he saw Harry. “Let’s go.” 

“Your ribs.” How could Harry have forgotten? “I’m rubbish at healing spells, but Mrs. Weasley isn’t. I’ll ask her to help you right when we get there.” 

Aizawa blinked in surprise. “Your methods will work on me? I was just going to ask Recovery Girl when we got back.” 

“Potions might not work, but spells should.” Harry carefully positioned himself under the man’s arm, trying to give him as much support as he could. 

Aizawa sighed. “It’s just a small fracture, if that. I’ll be fine.” 

Right. Harry was sure the hero had experienced worse, but he was probably still in pain. “Brace yourself.” 

After Aizawa nodded, Harry apparated, his feet landing in the familiar ash once more. “Sorry about the walk; landing over here was the easiest way of making sure we didn’t apparate on top of anyone.” Harry felt Aizawa pulling his arm away, which was ridiculous. The man should _not_ be walking with a fractured rib. At the same time, though, Harry doubted he would allow himself to be levitated. Harry sighed, turning toward the main path. “This way.”

Hitoshi and Yamada had already found the path apparently, and were standing there, staring at the Burrow in the distance. 

“What the heck?” Yamada looked over at Harry then waved toward the building, making a disgruntled noise. “How is it even standing?!”

Harry grinned, remembering when he’d had that same reaction so long ago. “Magic, of course.” 

Hitoshi gave him a dirty look, making Harry laugh as he started walking down the path. “Our buildings usually follow architectural rules, but they don’t have to, and the Weasleys have just added rooms around a central stairwell as they’ve had more children.” And the stilts on the angled roof made perfect sense, really—it would have cost more money to remodel the shape of the roof and make it flat.

Hitoshi fell into step beside Harry, trying to count the rooms from a distance before he finally gave up. “How many children do they have?”

“Um… Bill’s the oldest, then Charlie, and then Percy. After that there’s George and—” Harry stopped, Fred’s pale form coming unbidden into his mind, the teen laying out in the Great Hall, Molly crying, Ginny looking up and making eye contact with him, her eyes still swimming— 

Harry swallowed, pushing the scene out of his mind. “George had a twin brother, Fred. He died in the final battle at Hogwarts. Probably best if you don’t mention him, honestly. It’s still really fresh.” Harry took a deep breath, plowing on, “Then there’s Ron, who’s my closest friend besides Hermione, and Ginny, the youngest.” 

“I’m sorry they lost someone.” Aizawa’s voice was soft and sad. Harry supposed he must have lost people too, as a hero. 

Harry shrugged, not sure what to say. “I’m just glad everyone else survived.” 

“HARRY!!!” 

The door to the Burrow flew open, and Ginny was sprinting down the path, crashing into him and wrapping him in a hug. “Ginny!”

“You really came!” She pulled back, still beaming. “After everything that happened yesterday, we weren’t sure if you would.” 

“Of course I would.” Sure, he’d also wanted to stay in bed, but Aizawa and the others deserved to see something good from the enclaves before they left. 

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even come to say goodbye before you left the enclaves and flew to _Japan_.” 

Right. Ok. He maybe shouldn’t have done that. But at the same time, “I knew one of you would probably try to come with me, and I wanted to do it alone. Plus you’ve all been busy with the recovery efforts and such; you were needed here.” 

Ginny huffed before stepping back to let them through to the doorway. “Well, whatever your reasoning, it’s done now. Come on, everyone’s waiting inside.”

Harry stared at her. “Everyone?”

She stared at him like he was an idiot. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

“But don’t they all have work? And Charlie’s gone back to Romania, right?” 

“Mum wanted a family gathering, and you know we can’t say no to her. Now, come on!” Ginny tugged Harry’s arm, pulling him toward the door. “And you all come in, as well! We’ll do introductions inside, that way you don’t have to repeat yourselves ten million times or anything like that.” 

Still. _Everyone?_ Harry hadn’t been that much of a shut-in, surely they didn’t need to hold a full—

“Come in, come in! Welcome! We’re so happy Harry brought you!” Harry looked up, startled by Mr. Weasley’s voice, and saw the man standing in the doorway, beaming at them.

Oh no. 

Harry hadn’t warned Aizawa and the others about his hobby because he’d assumed the man would be at the Ministry. Well, he could at least spare them for a short while. “Aizawa-san was hurt yesterday and might have broken a rib. Where’s Mrs. Weasley?”

“Oh dear!” The man looked over at Aizawa, then motioned him inside. “Harry, take him to the couch, would you? I’ll go get Molly.”

“Now you’ve done it.” Ginny sighed then held open the door as they passed. “I hope you don’t mind being fussed over, my Mum can be a bit overbearing sometimes.” 

“What else was I supposed to do? Leave him in pain?” Harry motioned to the left with his head. “The sitting room is this way.” 

“George, Charlie, and Bill are all just as good with healing charms as Mum. They’d have to be, with the amount of scrapes they’ve gotten into.” 

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine.” Yamada laughed, though Aizawa sighed as he sat down.

Hitoshi snickered. “Dad hates being mothered, though. Remember after USJ?”

Yamada winced. “Well he can still move around this time, so it won’t be like that.” 

“Who’s hurt now?”

Charlie was standing in the doorway, wearing all dragon hide with his hair pulled back into a short ponytail that showed off his dragon fang earring. “Long time no see, Harry. Dad was mumbling about someone being hurt as he went upstairs?”

Oh. Right. “Aizawa-san hurt his rib yesterday. I’m not the best with healing spells, so…”

“Got it.” Charlie walked into the room, boots thumping against the soft carpet. “You’re Aizawa, right? You look like a Black, at least. I’m Charlie Weasley, second eldest of this bunch. Nice to meet you.” 

The hero nodded and Charlie lifted up his wand. “You want me to do the honors, mate? Or would you rather wait for the mother hen?”

Aizawa eyed his wand warily. “As long as you’re experienced, I have no objections.” 

Charlie grinned. “I work on a bloody dragon reserve. I break my bones and deal with some right awful burns on a daily basis, but don’t tell my Mum. She’d have a heart attack.” He knelt down in front of Aizawa, whistling after he cast the diagnostic spell. “That’s a nasty break. Not puncturing anything, though, thank Merlin. One shake of the wand and you’ll be as good as new.” 

One muttered incantation later, and Aizawa’s shoulders were sagging in relief. “Thank you.” 

“Charlie Weasley!” He looked up, grinning when he saw his mother standing there, her hands on her hips.

“Just healing him for you, Mum. I couldn’t leave him sitting here in pain, could I?”

She huffed in exasperation. “Oh you rascal. Did you do it properly?” She turned to Aizawa, “You don’t have any twinges of pain still, do you? I’d be happy to look at it for you.” 

“I’m fine, thank you. Your son healed it perfectly.” 

Molly sighed, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Well. I’m glad. Are you sure you don’t want me to check anything? Do you need anything? Some heat or an ice bag?”

Aizawa’s face remained impassive, but Yamada winced as his husband responded in a neutral tone, “I’m fine, really.” 

Ginny cleared her throat. “It was just a bruised rib, Mum. Harry was exaggerating.” 

“Those can still be quiet painful!” Mrs. Weasley turned back toward the kitchen. “I’ll just go make some mince pies, that will help.” 

“Mince Pies?” Hitoshi blinked in confusion, but then Mr. Weasley reappeared. 

“I went and woke up the rest of the lot, Harry. Seems they decided to sleep in quite a bit, but they’ll be down shortly.” 

Why was Harry not surprised that Ron was still asleep? “Thank you, Mr. Weasley.” 

“None of that, I’ve told you before, you can call me Arthur.” He turned toward Aizawa and the others. “All healed up now? And you’re the muggle Black, right? Shouta Aizawa?” At his nod, Mr. Weasley continued, “That makes you Hizashi Yamada and Hitoshi Shinsou? And you’re all what they call professional heroes?”

Oh no. 

“Dad, maybe now’s not the best time for questions?” Ginny’s smile was strained as she turned toward the others, “They haven’t even had a seat yet.” 

“Of course! Please sit, sit. Make yourselves at home.” Yamada and Hitoshi awkwardly sat on either side of Aizawa, and Mr. Weasley took a seat across from them, grinning. “Now, there’s been some questions that have been bothering me for a long time that you might be able to help me with.” 

Harry groaned.

Charlie sighed, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. 

Ginny flopped down onto the armrest next to her brother. “I tried.” 

Aizawa and Yamada exchanged a look, while Hitoshi eyed everyone’s reactions warily. Eventually, Yamada turned toward Mr. Weasley with a bright (fake) smile. “Sure! What kinds of questions?”

“Well, you see, Sirius once was talking about how he took James to this muggle music gathering—”

“What?!” Harry stared at Mr. Weasley. “Sirius and my Dad went to a concert?”

“Yes! That’s the word he used. They went one summer after their fifth year, I believe. But he was talking about it at an Order meeting once, deriding magical music and saying that muggles have much better music. What I never understood, though, was that he said the whole audience waved light around, but the lights weren’t from torches, but from phone boxes. How does that work?”

The three heroes stared at him.

Harry sighed. “It wasn’t a phone _box_, Mr. Weasley. It was just a phone. Muggles have small portable versions now. Very few people still use phone booths.” 

“Oi, who do I have to thank for the mince pies?” George poked his head into the room, grinning. 

Ginny turned to her brother as if he was her savior, though she kept her voice neutral “Apparently Mr. Aizawa was hurt yesterday on the mission.” 

“Really now?” George strode into the room, a plate of biscuits levitating behind him. “You can have the first one, then. I tried to be a gentleman and help Mum with the pies, but she wouldn’t let me on account of my contaminating the batter. As if I would do such a thing!” He sighed dramatically, moving the plate so that it was in front of the heroes. “So I filched some of last night’s biscuits instead.” 

Aizawa looked between George and the biscuits. “Thanks, but I’m not sure I trust these given your reputation.” 

Ginny snickered, hopping up from the armrest. “I’ll do the honors.” She grabbed the plate, then moved over to hand it out to their father. “Dad, you want a biscuit?”

Mr. Weasley stared at George, then eyed the biscuits for a second before reaching out and picking up an oatmeal raisin one from on top. “I’d be delighted, Ginny. Thank you.” 

George raised an eyebrow at Ginny, the two of them having a staring contest as Mr. Weasley slowly brought the biscuit closer to his mouth. 

“Fine!” George huffed, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t eat the ones with raisins in them. It’s harmless, though, really.” 

Mr. Weasley sighed and put the biscuit back down. “You haven’t messed with the oatmeal raisins in months!” 

“Well that means it’s about time, right? You lot wouldn’t suspect it.”

Charlie laughed from the corner. “Toss me one with the raisins, Gin. I’ll see what it does.” 

“Your own head.” She rolled her eyes, tossing a biscuit toward her older brother before giving a safe one to Mr. Weasley and levitating the tray back in front of the heroes. 

Hitoshi cautiously took a biscuit, freezing when Charlie suddenly started letting out a roar like a dragon and flapping his arms.

“Bloody hell, what’s George done now?” Ron wandered into the room, yawning and plopping down in the chair next to Harry.

“I’ve been testing the animal tarts, ickle brother.” George grinned. “Now they’ll make you not only sound like an animal, but act like one, too!” George shook his head, ignoring Charlie’s continued roars. “Bloody predictable that the first creature Charlie thought of was a drag—ack!” George squawked, holding up an arm to defend himself from the pillow that Charlie had thrown right when the biscuit’s effects subsided.

“Oi, oi, settle down, you two. Baby coming through.” Bill came in, holding Teddy in his arms. “Special delivery, Harry. The little one’s been wanting to know what all the fuss is about.” 

Harry cautiously accepted the baby. “He’s what, six months old now?”

“Seven, actually.” Harry looked over to see that Fleur had entered the room, now, and and was sitting next to Mr. Weasley. 

Teddy was still so young.

Harry stared at the child. Teddy’s hair slowly morphed into a messy black, his eyes becoming green like Harry’s own.

George laughed. “Aww, he likes you! He’s been Weasley red for months now.” 

Guilt churned in Harry’s stomach. He was Teddy’s godfather, but he’d only seen the boy a handful of times. Grimmauld hadn’t exactly been safe for him, though. It was now, though… but Harry would be gone looking for artifacts all day, and he couldn’t leave Teddy alone—

Hitoshi spewed out water.

George laughed, vanishing the water away. “I never said the others were safe. That one just makes you spew out whatever you drank last, though. Not very interesting yet, but good for a laugh.” George grinned at the three of them. “Welcome to the family.” 

Mr. Weasley sighed. “George, don’t prank our guests.” 

“But they’re Harry’s family, which means they’re our family, which means we should make them feel welcome!” George winked at the heroes.

Bill picked up the plate, eyeing the biscuits. “Peanut butter ones should be safe, but he’s done something to the rest.” 

“Betrayed by my own brother!” George huffed, collapsing onto the floor with a melodramatic swoon.

Bill rolled his eyes, handing the plate back to Hitoshi before moving to sit between Fleur and his father.

Teddy giggled in Harry’s lap, waving his arms around. Harry smiled at the child, then blinked as he realized he should probably introduce him. “Um… “ Harry held Teddy up, lifting him so that he could see the three heroes. “Aizawa-san, this is Teddy Lupin. He’s… well, his grandmother was your mother’s sister. Besides us, he’s the only Black left that hasn’t been blasted off the family tree.” 

“Ah.” The man watched Teddy grin and wave his arm around. “It’s nice to know that there’s another living relative in the family.”

“Hold up.” Yamada looked between Teddy and everyone else in the room. “His hair just changed color right? I’m not hallucinating that?”

Ginny laughed, then explained, “Teddy’s a metamorphmagus like his mother. It’s a magical gift that runs in the Black family, but it’s rare. Basically he can change his appearance at will.” 

“So… like a quirk?” All the Weasleys stared at Hitoshi. “It’s an ability that’s somehow related to magic that’s inherited. So it’s like a quirk.”

Harry hurried to explain, “Kreacher says their quirks feel like magic to him.”

Before anyone could respond, the floo flared to life and Hermione stepped out, followed by Percy.

“Morning, Father.” Percy’s smile was strained, but he lifted up a stack of papers. “Sorry I couldn’t come earlier, I had to grab some things to work on.” He blinked, taking in Harry and the three heroes. “I see you’ve already arrived. Good to have you and your friends here, Harry. I’m Percy Weasley. I work at the ministry with father and Hermione.” 

“Why don’t you tell Molly everyone’s here, Percy?” Arthur smiled at his son. “She’s in the kitchen.” 

“Of course.” Percy made a face as he stepped over George, who was still sprawled across the rug in the middle of the room.

Hermione came toward Harry then, giving him a quick hug and ruffling Teddy’s hair. “It’s good to see you again, but I’m afraid I can’t stay long. I just came to deliver a letter that came for you.”

A letter? “I thought you weren’t an owl?”

“Very funny.” Ron shoved Harry’s shoulder , but Harry grinned at him.

Hermione rolled her eyes and started looking in her bag for the letter and then held it out. “I thought it would be better if I delivered it in person.” 

Well that was ominous. He couldn’t take the letter with Teddy in his lap, though, so—

“I’ll take him, Harry. Let the little blighter crawl around for a bit.” George reached out, and Harry gladly handed Teddy over.

The letter was in a muggle envelope, though. “Who’s it from?” Someone back in Japan? 

“It came to the ministry envelope from Japan, but was addressed to you. It’s from the principal we’ve been working with—sorry, I opened it because I didn’t know if I should actually give it to you or if it would be better off going to the aurors and they’d just said your name because you’re the person they know.”

“It’s fine.” Harry didn’t really _want_ Hermione reading through all his mail or anything, but he understood why she would this time. He pulled the letter from the muggle envelope and opened it.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I’ve heard that your mission has been successful on multiple fronts, which is good news indeed! _

_I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of a predicament here in Japan. Despite my initial analysis, Midoriya-kun has indeed performed a definite feat of accidental magic, which is so exciting! He was training with Bakugou-kun and somehow managed to extinguish Bakugou-kun’s explosion. I understand that emotions impact your magic, correct? Midoriya-kun says he was angry at Bakugou-kun during the fight. Thankfully All Might was the only other person present at the time and he came to me for advice. At the moment Midoriya-kun is quite confused. I could contact the enclave here, of course, but I was hoping that you might be willing to explain things to him._

_Sincerely,_  
_Nezu_  
_Principal of UA_

Harry stared at the paper. 

Midoriya really did have magic, just like Bailey.

But how? And how had it gone from growing a plant to extinguishing an explosion? Had the emotion been stronger? But as much as the two of them bickered sometimes, Harry had never seen Midoriya ever get _really_ angry with Bakugou. 

Confused, Harry passed the letter to Hitoshi. “Midoriya definitely has magic.” 

“Wait, wait, wait. But Midoriya has a quirk!” Yamada pulled at the letter so that he could see it, making Aizawa sigh between the two of them and hold it himself. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Apparently Midoriya has both like Bailey.” Harry didn’t know what to do. Nezu’s request made sense, but Harry was needed here! He couldn’t just leave and go back to Japan. And Midoriya needed someone to teach him magic, not just someone to tell him about it—this wasn’t a short term proposal, despite what the letter acted like. 

“Bailey had no signs of magic before she interacted with wizards.” Aizawa’s voice was soft as he looked up from the letter. 

“What?” Bill looked over at Aizawa, startled. “But this girl was nine, right? She should have shown magic before then.” 

“That’s it!” Hermione’s eyes lit up while she nodded. “Rookwood said Bailey’s magic became stronger the longer she stayed with him!” 

“Um… Mione?” Ron looked over at her, his expression of fond exasperation. “Not all of us are making whatever connection you just made.”

“Right. Care to share with the class, Granger?”

“Oh, shush George.” Charlie kicked at his brother’s leg. “Like you would pay attention if it was a class.” 

“Oi! I did too!” 

Bill rolled his eyes. “Maybe if there was a prank involved.”

“Shush, all of you.” Mrs. Weasley came into the room, carrying a tray of mince pies. “Would you like a mince pie, um, Aizawa-san, I believe?” She held out the tray to him, then noticed the biscuits next to George. “And thank you for bringing out the biscuits, whichever one of you fetched those.”

“Always happy to help!” George grinned at his mother and she frowned, staring at the biscuits again suspiciously. 

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. “He messed with several, dearest.” 

Mrs. Weasley huffed. “The number of biscuits you’ve ruined.” 

“Thank you for the mince pies!” Yamada took one from the tray, grinning at her. “And just Aizawa and Yamada is fine!” 

“If that’s what you want, alright.” She pulled out her wand, levitating the tray around the room, starting with Percy, who had reappeared at some point while Harry wasn’t paying attention and had settled in the chair in the corner behind Bill and Fleur.

“Anyway, you were saying, ‘Mione?” Ron turned back to Hermione, who was looking off into the distance, curling her hair around her fingers as she thought.

“What?” Hermione blinked at the mention of her name. “Oh. Right. Well, many theorize that magic lies dormant in squibs and their descendants and that’s how muggleborns are born. If Bailey and Midoriya are descended from squibs like muggleborns, but had weak magical cores or quirks that prevented their magic from developing, then the presence of magic could strengthen their magic. Magic constantly gives off excess energy, after all, which is why we can’t use telephones and other electronics even if we aren’t actively casting any spells.”

George frowned, pulling a squealing Teddy away from the fireplace as he spoke. “So… this Bailey girl had magic, but it was… dormant or something? And being around wizards strengthened it?”

“Exactly.” Hermione nodded. “This only works to a certain point, of course, and there has to be some sort of magical core to begin with, otherwise there would be no squibs, but sometimes children are simply very weak and need time around magic to grow to their full potential.”

“Right.” Ron nodded. “Like Neville with his mad relatives trying to make him do accidental magic.” 

“Exactly! What they did was horrible. Constant magic around him would strengthen his core on its own. There have to be muggleborns that the enclaves never find because their cores are too weak and they don’t have environmental magic to help them like pureblood witches and wizards do.”

Mr. Weasley sighed. “Without accidental magic, there’s just no way for us to be able to find them to reach out to them, unfortunately.”

“Right, though it’s interesting in Bailey’s case since her quirk destroys magic… I wonder if maybe the magic _does_touch her, but she destroys it a split second afterwards. That would make sense because the vines on Rookwood did work—” 

“But Kreacher apparently said that quirks are magic, and multiple sources of magic in the same individual…” Ginny shuddered, and Charlie reached over to hold her hand. “That’s rarely a good thing.”

Harry carefully avoided looking toward Hitoshi, even though he could feel the other boy turn toward him. 

Hermione nodded, still lost in thought. “But it’s not always a foreign magic invading a person. There are theories that abilities like parseltongue and metamorphmagi occurred from magic originally granted to family’s ancestors by intelligent magical creatures like dragons or basilisks… of course, that’s all just theory.” Hermione shrugged. “The gifts are so rare, it’s hard to be able to analyze their similarities with those of magical creatures, but each family that has such a gift has an association with a magical creature with a similar gift.” 

“But with Veela, the attributes weaken over generations.” Fleur’s hand reached up to hold her hair self-consciously. “My mother’s allure is much stronger than mine and my sister’s.” 

“But there it’s not just a magical gift being inherited.” Percy straightened his documents and looked up at them. “Veela marry wizards and reproduce with them, so of course their traits would grow fainter over generations.” Percy paused, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I read about parselmouths back when we discovered Harry was one, and I stumbled across what Hermione’s discussing. In these instances, a magical gift is bestowed upon someone worthy, and worthy descendants would inherit the trait. That’s why people claim that all parselmouths are evil due to their ambition and all seers are incredibly intelligent.”

“So it was just used to support horrible stereotypes?” Ginny wrinkled her nose.

Percy sighed. “You could focus on the aspect of ambition and leave out the “evil” part, if you like. Anyway, I also found a theory about the Black family. Some think the Black family always names their children after constellations because one of their ancestors encountered a shapeshifting creature that is a constellation and that creature honored the family with the rare ability to become metamorphmagi.”

What the hell? “That’s bizarre.” 

“Ok, but dragons can’t just give us their magic. It’s tied to them.” Charlie shook his head. “Someone would have to drink raw dragon blood or something like that in order to have dragon-like magic, but that would kill them. Our bodies just aren’t made for a dragon’s magic, even with the help of our own.” 

“But what if it was someone like Merlin or Dumbledore?” George rolled onto his side, turning to look at his brother. “We’re talking about ancestors long ago.”

“Some figure out of legend?” Charlie groaned, tilting his head back as he thought. “Maybe? Or the person could end up without any magic left because their own magic is doing all it can to keep them alive.” 

“Like with lycanthropes.” Bill’s voice was quiet as he stared at the floor.

Fleur reached over, her hand resting on his leg. “You survived and were not touched by the curse. Your magic is still strong.” 

“Thankfully.” Bill sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But others aren’t as lucky and have to deal with the curse. Remus must have been incredibly powerful.” 

Hermione froze. “Of course!” She turned to Mr. Weasley, her hand twirling in her hair liked it did when she was thinking through something exciting. “Muggles in the past have always died when attacked by werewolves. But that’s been changing in the past few generations, right?”

“Yes.” Mr. Weasley nodded. “They’ve been surviving more and more often. Especially individuals with more powerful quirks. It’s caused a mess with bringing them into the enclaves—several adults have refused.”

Hermione was nodding along. “Right! Do you know how their quirks were affected afterwards?”

Mr. Weasley shook his head. “We never asked.” 

Hermione frowned. “I bet their quirks were weaker. Or they merged somehow maybe? Wizards survive the bite because our magic fights against the curse and helps heal the body post transformation, but quirks make muggles more resilient, just like our magic does. Unlike Remus, most werewolves have relatively weak magic because it’s always focused on the curse, so they rely on fighting with the amplified physical abilities that come along with being a werewolf.”

“If you can give us names, Nezu would be more than happy to check on that for you.” Yamada grinned at Hermione, who nodded eagerly.

“That would be lovely, thanks.” 

Hitoshi frowned, leaning back against the couch as he thought. “So quirks are like this werewolf curse and your magic fights them?”

“Well quirks don’t kill you if left alone, obviously.” Hermione shrugged. “But if they _are_ different strands of magic in, then there’s an equal chance that they could coexist with magic, like with the metamorphmagus abilities, or they could battle for dominance, like with the werewolf curse or dragon blood.” 

“The number of muggles born without quirks or magic is dwindling rapidly.” Mr. Weasley’s fingers tapped against the arm of his chair as he thought. “If what you’re thinking is true, Hermione, that would account for the smaller number of muggleborns, as well—their quirks are hostile to their magic and overcoming it. But why haven’t their been more cases where the two coexist naturally?”

“Magic like our own is incredibly rare.” Hermione sighed. “Even if the muggle population is much larger, that’s still like asking why there hasn’t been a parseltongue who is also a seer.” 

But all this meant… Harry took the letter back from Hitoshi, cold dread filling his stomach. “Then this is my fault. If I had never been near him, Midoriya would never have had to struggle with accidental magic.” 

Aizawa snorted. “Midoriya won’t see it that way. To him it’s a strength he wouldn’t have otherwise had.” 

Even if that was true… “If the enclaves find out, they would want to train him within enclave borders. Midoriya’s about to graduate and become a pro hero. Even if he comes to accept the abilities, I can’t imagine he would want to go to the enclaves to train his magic.” 

“Hold up.” Harry looked over to see Ron’s forehead furrowed in concentration. “If his magic was getting stronger because it was reacting to yours, then if you stayed away, wouldn’t it get weaker?”

What? Did that mean Harry should avoid Japan? But stopping an explosion required a lot more strength than making a plant grow.

“No.” Hermione shook her head. “It’s not like his magical core was a small cup that Harry made overflow. Think of it more like a muscle that Harry helped stretch until it became strong enough to do the stretches on its own.” 

So Midoriya’s core would remain strong, as would Bailey’s. 

But Midoriya was too old to suddenly start magical school in Japan. And he had a life outside the enclave. Midoriya would never accept leaving that behind work as a hero.

But Midoriya’s magic couldn’t continue like this. He needed training to control it. 

Bloody hell.

Harry ran a hand through his hair.

What was he supposed to do?

He had to stay here and destroy the Black artifacts. But he also was the reason Midoriya’s magic was stronger. It should be his responsibility to help Midoriya adjust to that and make sure it didn’t upend his life.

But Harry had already intruded on Aizawa’s life so much… 

Aizawa sighed again, making Harry look over at the man. “The students already think you’re my ward. There’s no need to change that.”

Huh?

“And sharing my room isn’t too big a deal.” Hitoshi grinned at him. “It’s been kind of fun having a roommate.” 

What? “You both want me to come back and stay at UA?” Hitoshi had said he had the option, but—

“Of course, my man!” Yamada winked at him. “It’ll be the easiest way for you to help Midoriya, right? And we like having you around!” 

Harry didn’t understand. Who just welcomed someone into their family like that?

He’d been _related_ to the Dursleys, and they’d still treated him like trash. Harry had a connection to Aizawa through Sirius, sure, but the man hated the Blacks and had good reason to. 

How… how could they just accept him? “But I’ve caused so many problems.” He’d short-circuited the electricity, dragged them to England, made them deal with his issues, taken time they could have spent on other things—

“I don’t remember any problems, do you, Sho?” Yamada was still grinning. 

Harry didn’t understand. 

“Nothing that we weren’t glad to help with and capable of handling.” 

Ron laughed, clapping Harry on the back. “There you have it, mate. About time you got yourself a family.” 

Family? George had been saying that too. “I’m not—”

“I’m a Black.” Aizawa looked at Harry, one eyebrow raised. “You’re the Head of that House. Doesn’t that make us family?”

Harry stared at Aizawa. But he hated the Blacks! How could he just _say_ that? “It’s a technicality.” 

“Riiiight. And that’s why practically every person we’ve met has stared at Dad like he’s some kind of ghost.” Hitoshi’s voice was dripping in sarcasm, his grin mischievous. “Just accept that you’re stuck with us.” 

Ron lightly tapped his fist against Harry’s shoulder. “And us too. You better come back and visit, ok?”

“But I can’t just leave! You still need help here. I have to—”

“Are you saying we’re incapable of destroying the artifacts on our own?” Hermione scoffed. “We helped you destroy horcruxes. I doubt the Blacks have anything that nasty.” 

“No, but—” 

“I’m a curse breaker and an employee of Gringotts.” Bill smiled at him. “I think I can handle destroying those things more quickly and safely than you could. All I’d need is your signed permission as Black Heir to enter the Black vaults and properties in order to destroy their cursed contents.” 

“But—”

“Mate.” Ron’s hand rested on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry turned to meet his best friend’s earnest expression. “For once your rotten luck has helped you stumble into something good. Don’t turn it away.” 

“But Bill has a family to support. I couldn’t just ask him to drop everything and do this for me.” Harry was fine financially—he had the Black fortune and the Potter fortune at his disposal. But Bill…

“Then I’ll write up a contract and you can pay me for it as Heir Black.” Bill shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Gringotts curse breakers take private contracts all the time.”

What? “You’d be ok with that?” Ron always hated when Harry offered money.

“You’d be paying me for doing my job. I’ll hardly say no to that, and I’d be happy to help rid the world of some dark artifacts.” 

Harry didn’t know what to say.

Hermione smiled at him. “You deserve to have a fresh start, Harry. You destroyed Voldemort. It’s about time you asked for something in return for saving everyone. I’m sure Kingsley wouldn’t protest if I provide you with a portkey every month or so to come visit us, especially since you’ll most likely only visit Black or Weasley properties.”

Harry swallowed. “That… would be nice.” Could he really do this?

Could he leave the enclave and escape well… everything?

Even the thought of living somewhere he wasn’t famous and where people wanted him… that was nice. 

“But I can’t just keep staying away from Teddy like this.” Harry looked down at the baby as he crawled on the floor next to George. 

“Harry dear, you’re eighteen.” Mrs. Weasley smiled at him. “You don’t need to suddenly be the sole caretaker of a child. I’m glad to help take care of Teddy. If you’re still there when he’s a little older, then maybe he can come with you then, but for now he’s just fine right here. Remus and Tonks would understand. You know they always expected Andromeda to be able to help you. I’m happy to step into that role and help instead.” 

Even then, Harry still felt terrible about it. Remus and Tonks had made _him_ Teddy’s godfather, but Harry barely ever saw Teddy. He didn’t even know anything about children, for Merlin’s sake! Plus he wasn’t in any shape to take care of one, not when he couldn’t even sleep without the help of potions.

Hermione reached into her purse, pulling out another envelope along with two stone cat figurines. “Here. The grey one will take you to Japan, the Black one back to Grimmauld. The activation word is the same as before, and this envelope will connect to one that I’ll keep myself; you won’t have to worry about anyone else at the ministry seeing anything.” She sighed, standing up and walking toward him. “I do have to get back to work, though.” 

“Thanks.” Harry swallowed, mechanically accepting the portkeys and envelope, then giving her a hug. 

Hermione’s eyes were filled with water, but she was smiling. “As much as I’ll miss you, you should go, Harry. Being away from everything has been good for you.” And then she dissaparated. 

Harry was in a daze for the rest of the visit. He was vaguely aware of the conversation shifting to lighter subjects and Yamada laughing while Hitoshi snickered about something Mr. Weasley had asked. Well, several things. Harry really wasn’t sure.

At some point Mrs. Weasley had herded everyone into the dining room to eat. It had been good, of course. Mrs. Weasley’s cooking was always amazing. And Bill had shown him a contract, which Harry had corrected to pay him twice as much before he’d signed it. 

It was the least Harry could do, when Bill would be doing all of this to help him.

But… Harry still couldn’t wrap his mind around leaving the enclave. Before it had been a temporary mission: find Aizawa and drag him back. This… 

Harry shook his head. Teaching Midoriya to handle his magic would take a long time. Harry was pretty sure he could do it. He’d taught the DA, after all, but it definitely would take a while. 

Saying goodbye to each of the Weasleys didn’t feel real. 

They all ordered him to visit and not stay away too long. Mrs. Weasley had cried. Ginny’s hug… it had lingered longer than the others, and she’d whispered to him to be happy. 

And then Ron was helping him apparate the heroes back to Grimmauld. 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, mate.” 

What? Oh. Aizawa and the others had left the room to pack, and now it was just Harry and Ron. “That’s the thing.” Harry sat down, frustrated. “I _do_ want to, bloody hell, even if I didn’t get along with Aizawa and them it was really nice to be in a place where I was just Harry and all my fame didn’t matter, but…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m leaving so much behind here. The artifacts, Teddy, all of you, helping with Hogwarts and the government and—” 

“Harry. You killed Voldemort. Yeah, sure, there’s still things that need to be done and a few death eaters to catch, but you’ve done more than your fair share. You had that monster inside you for your entire life. We’ll all miss you, but you deserve a chance to live somewhere that maniac never reached.” 

Harry swallowed. “I still feel like I’m deserting you.” 

Ron snorted. “What will it take to get it through your thick head that you don’t have to do everything? We know you’re willing to do whatever you can—for Merlin’s sake, you literally tried to die for us, you bloody numbskull. But you don’t have to do everything. Just visit us every once and a while and we’re good, yeah? We want you to be happy, that’s all.”

Harry stared at Ron. Slowly, he nodded. “I guess… I guess I’ll go then.” 

“Thank Merlin. I mean that about visiting, though! If you don’t, I’ll send Hermione after you.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d go myself, but we both know it would be a complete disaster if I left the enclaves. I’d have no bloody clue what I was doing.” 

Harry snorted. “That’s for sure.” He stood up, ignoring the desire to stay away and instead pulling his friend into a quick hug. “I’ll visit. I’ll keep in touch with Hermione, too, so you’ll know when to expect me.” 

“Brilliant.” Ron’s grin faded a little. “You should… um, you should probably pack and such, since you’ll be gone longer. And Mum will be expecting me back home…” 

“Right.” Harry nodded, and Ron gave him a final grin. 

“Till next time, then?”

“Of course.” 

And then Ron disapparated. 

Well.

The decision was made, now Harry just had to actually do it. If he was going to be gone for a long time, though, there were things he wanted to do differently. “Kreacher!”

The house elf immediately appeared, giving a slight bow. “What does Master need?”

“Can you clean and straighten the other Black properties? Would you be able to tell if anything is missing from them?”

Kreacher grinned, his ears straightening out. “If that is what Master wishes, yes. I simply need to be given permission to enter them. I have not been to any since Mistress died, but I will know if anything important is missing.”

Brilliant. “You have my permission to enter all Black estates. I’d appreciate the help. If you find any dark artifacts, set them aside for Bill or someone else to destroy, don’t hurt yourself trying. And tell Bill if something is missing. But don’t push yourself too hard, take your time! I’m going to be mostly in Japan for a while.” 

Kreacher bowed, “Of course Master. I’ll start right away. Unless there is something else I can do to help you prepare for your trip?”

Something else? Oh! “Bring me all the wands you can find from every Black estate.” Kreacher bowed, then disappeared again.

Harry would just have to hope that one of them would react well with Midoriya’s magic. Harry wandered upstairs next, grabbing a few books from the library that might be helpful for teaching Midoriya. His Hogwarts textbooks were still in his trunk, of course, but the teachers had assigned supplemental texts from the library all the time. This would have to do, though.

But if Harry was going to be living in Japan more than in England…

He apparated again, this time landing in Sirius’ room. 

Everything was still just like the man had left it. Kreacher had kept it clean, but thankfully hadn’t disturbed anything even though he’d hated him.

Harry hesitantly ran his hand across the soft bedspread. 

If Sirius were still here, what would he say? Would he want Harry to go to Japan?

Harry thought he would. Sirius had never wanted to stay here. He’d always felt trapped and wanted to travel. 

Now Harry could in his stead. 

Harry took a deep breath, slowly letting it out before he went over to the bookshelf, picking up the picture of Sirius, Remus, and his parents. The left side had been torn off—probably where the rat had been. 

The four all looked so happy. His father was laughing and distracting Remus before Sirius dumped a snowball down the back of Remus’ shirt. Lily was rolling her eyes next to the scene, but there was a fond smile on her face. 

It was a good picture. 

Harry carefully tucked it inside the thick black leather journal that Sirius had written in after Azkaban. Harry had looked in it a few times—the soft volume held mostly memories of Sirius time at Hogwarts with Remus and his parents. There was never any mention of Pettigrew.

The journal always felt too personal to read, but yet it was also like Sirius was there himself, reciting the stories he would have told Harry if they’d only had more time together. 

He couldn’t just leave it here. 

“Harry?”

Harry whirled around, wand springing into his hand, but he quickly resheathed it once he saw Aizawa in the doorway. “Sorry! Um… are you all ready to go back?”

Aizawa stared at him for a few seconds then looked around the room. “Yes. This was Sirius’ room, I take it?”

“He hated it here.” Harry bit his lip, looking down at the journal. Slowly he removed the picture and held it out. “This was him. Well, him and my parents and Remus. Teddy’s father.” 

Harry looked away while Aizawa accepted the picture. 

“I see what people mean, I suppose.” The man’s expression was blank as he studied the photo. “They look happy.” 

Harry shrugged. “You look even more like him when he was older. From what I’ve heard, they were before the war started.” 

Aizawa handed back the picture and Harry slipped it back inside Sirius’ journal. “I’ll go put these in my trunk and I’ll be ready to go.” 

“Wait.” 

Harry stopped halfway to the door, turning back to look at Aizawa. “What is it?”

“Thank you for letting me know they weren’t all terrible. I’m sorry you didn’t get to know them better.”

Harry shrugged again, uneasy. “They fought for what they believed in and did the same thing I would have done. Life just isn’t fair sometimes.” 

“No it’s not.” Aizawa sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We really are happy to have you, you know. But we also don’t want to force you to come back if you’d rather stay here.” 

Harry shook his head. “Midoriya needs my help. He shouldn’t have to go to the enclave for training, not when he’s so tied down in your world. It’s different when muggleborns are young and quirkless and looking for an escape. But Midoriya’s building a life for himself and he’s happy.”

“I didn’t ask you about what would be best for Midoriya. I asked you what _you_ want to do.” 

Harry froze. 

Ah. That… that was a harder question. 

Harry swallowed, turning to look back at the room. He took a deep breath, surprised at how shaky it came out. “Sirius once told me, that when everything was over, I’d come live with him. That we’d be a proper family.” 

Why were his eyes starting to water? Harry tried to force the tears back down. Remembering those words here of all places… “Voldemort’s dead, but he still haunts me. I can’t even see my friends often because every time I go outside someone realizes who I am and they swarm around me and I just—” 

Harry stopped. 

He took a deep breath, looking back at Aizawa. “More than anything, I want what Sirius offered that night. I want to be able to be with the people I care about and not have to worry about whether or not someone will die the next day.”

Black eyes regarded Harry calmly. “I can’t replace him.”

“I know.” 

“We live dangerous lives. I can’t promise that we’ll survive every mission, no matter how hard we try.” 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, finally gaining some control over his emotions. “But it’s not a warfront. And if I go with you, I’ll be able to help heal you and such.” 

Aizawa slowly nodded. “Alright then. I’ll see you downstairs, and we’ll be happy to have you.” Aizawa gave Harry’s shoulder a quick pat, and then he was gone.

The touch hadn’t bothered him. 

Harry swallowed again, but before he apparated to his room, Kreacher appeared, holding out a chest filled with wands, at least twenty of them. 

“Thank you, Kreacher.” Harry took the chest, rearranging things in his arms so that none of them would fall. 

The house elf nodded. “The Black family has always kept its wands in good condition.” 

“I’ll treat them well.” Kreacher looked at Harry skeptically. Maybe he was right, it’s not like Harry ever spent much time polishing his wand. They would at least stay safe in his trunk, though. “Watch after the estates while I’m gone.” 

Kreacher bowed, “As you wish, Master.” 

Harry apparated to his room, placing the books, journal, and chest into his trunk before latching its lid shut, shrinking it, and slipping it into his pocket.

His feet felt oddly light as Harry walked back downstairs, taking in the hallway and its portraits for the last time in a while. Wait. 

Dorea! 

Harry hurried to where she was hanging on the stairwell, relieved that she was in her frame. 

“I see you finally remembered me.” The woman smiled at him, and Harry grinned back.

“I’m actually leaving for a while, but do I have your permission to move your frame into my trunk so that you can come with me.”

“Of course!” She laughed. “I would love to get out of these stuffy halls and see some new surroundings. A little time in a trunk is no problem.” 

“Brilliant.” Harry quickly pulled his trunk back out and resized it, then unstuck the portrait from the wall. “I’ll let you out as soon as I have the chance.” 

“I look forward to it, dearie.” Dorea winked at him, and then she was inside the trunk. Harry closed it, shrinking it down and slipping it in his pocket once more. 

He had family now. An unconventional one, sure, but one that existed. 

And he was leaving Grimmauld and London and all the fame he’d never wanted. 

Harry smiled. 

When he reached the sitting room, Hitoshi grinned at him. “Ready to go?”

Harry nodded, pulling out the grey cat and stretching out his arm. “Hold on tight.”

Hitoshi’s hand closed over his, then Yamada and Aizawa held on to both of their arms. 

Yamada groaned. “I have to say, I really do hate the side-effects of your transportation.” 

“You get used to it.” Harry grinned at him. 

Aizawa snorted next to Harry. “You can claim that whenever you manage to stay on your feet without us holding you.” 

Hitoshi snickered while Harry could feel his face begin to burn. “Shut up.” He wasn’t that bad! It was just disorienting and they both had ridiculously good balance from all their work as heroes. “I’ll count down. Three.” Harry’s hand clenched around the figurine. “Two.” A hand tightened around each arm, supporting him. “One.” Hitoshi closed his eyes. “Crookshanks.” 

And the portkey swirled to life, yanking them all sideways and making his stomach want to hurl. 

Harry _may_ have almost stumbled again when they landed.

They were in Nezu’s office. 

They’d made it. 

“DADDY! PAPA!!!” Eri squealed and ran toward them. 

Harry quickly stepped back as the little girl tackled the others and Yamada scooped her up, twirling her around. “Hey little listener!” Yamada grinned at the girl, adding something else in Japanese.

Harry’s eyes widened. Wait. If he was going to live here more or less permanently for a while, he was going to have to learn the language, wasn’t he? That was not going to be pleasant. 

Yet… Harry watched as Hitoshi ruffled Eri’s hair and the girl pouted, fussing about her hair while the adults smiled at them.

This was what a family was supposed to look like. 

And they wanted him to be part of it? Even though he couldn’t communicate well with Eri?

Harry felt overwhelmed. 

“I’m glad to have you all back.” Harry looked over to see Nezu sipping tea behind his desk. “I apologize for the abruptness, but I have a very confused student waiting outside who would like to talk with Mr. Potter. I explained what I could, of course, but even I do not know all the particulars.”

“Right.” Harry swallowed. Straight to it. He somehow had to teach Midoriya magic. “I can talk to him now, that’s fine.”

Aizawa looked over at the door, exasperated. “The problem child is freaking out because he doesn’t know how to analyze it, isn’t he?”

The principal nodded. “As is only natural.”

Aizawa looked back down, his right eyebrow twitching. “Right.” He sighed, heading over to one of the couches and sitting down. “‘Zashi, this will take a while. Why don’t you, Eri, and Hitoshi head to the dorms?” 

“You got it!” Yamada saluted, his other hand taking Eri’s as he headed toward the door. “You want me to tell Midoriya to come in?”

“Please.” The man sighed, leaning back against the couch. 

“You might want to prepare yourself for about a hundred questions.” Hitoshi grinned at Harry before following after Yamada, who was muttering about needing to get the dye out of Hitoshi’s hair.

Harry took a deep breath.

He could do this. 

It was just like the DA. And with Nezu and Aizawa in the room, they could both help explain things, right? Both of them had clearance to know everything, and they’d been teachers for a long time. 

Only a few seconds after they’d left, the doors opened again. 

Midoriya.

He looked like a complete nervous wreck, lacking the usual confidence that Harry had come to associate with him. Bloody hell. “I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out from Harry’s mouth before he’d even thought about it.

“Huh?” Green eyes stared at him, wide and confused. “What do you mean?”

“If I hadn’t come, you wouldn’t be dealing with this right now.” 

Midoriya blinked. “I really don’t understand. Principal Nezu says I have some sort of weird magic that can make plants grow and stop Bakugou’s explosions and I don’t really get it and that’s really frustrating, but this is something I can use, right? Something that if I train, I can use to save people?”

Harry cautiously nodded. “If you can say it’s related to your quirk, yes. It’s against the law to reveal the existence of magic to outsiders.” 

Midoriya’s brow furrowed. “Against the law? What law? Principal Nezu said that there were others with this ability, but that they lived in secret. Is that what you’re talking about?”

“Yes.” 

Midoriya’s eyes shifted over to his teacher. “The principal said he knew about it because of his position at UA, but why does Aizawa-sensei know?”

Harry winced, looking away. “He’s… well, he’s family.” Everyone here even thought they were more closely related than they actually were. “There are exceptions to the law for close family members.” 

“Oh.” Midoriya nodded, but then his eyes widened in panic “But Kacchan and All Might were there. And they know everything about my quirk. They know this wasn’t the same.” 

Harry sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Normally we would erase their memories or alter them, but I really hate that spell…” It reminded him way too much of the war.

“What?!” Midoriya’s let out a small squeak. “You can do that?!”

“Yeah. I _really_ don’t want to, but if our government ever finds out that Bakugou-san and All Might know, then they won’t hesitate to do so.” Harry frowned. “Can they be trusted with a secret like this?”

Midoriya nodded, his eyes determined. “Absolutely. Of that I have no doubt.” 

Nezu smiled, “I will vouch for them as well, and request that you leave my faculty and students’ minds untouched.” 

Harry held up his hands, “Like I said, I’d rather not do that spell. I’m not that great at it and there’s too much risk of it backfiring.” 

“Backfiring?!”

“Relax, kid. He won’t do it.” Midoriya’s shoulders eased a little at Aizawa’s words, his panic subsiding.

Harry sighed. “Just… don’t tell them any more and make sure that they know not to tell anyone what they saw. Ok?” 

“Ok!” Midoriya gave a determined nod, pausing a second before pulling a notebook out of his back pocket. “Um, but actually I have a lot of questions. Since I can use this power, I can know more, right?”

Harry nodded. He could do this. He could help Midoriya learn.

It’s why he’d come back. 

Harry went over to sit next to Aizawa, and Midoriya cautiously sat opposite them. 

Harry had family here and could relax away from his fame, but he also had a new purpose. A purpose that, for once, had nothing to do with Voldemort. 

A path had been set in front of him since the moment his parents had died, and for the first time, Harry was stepping off it and choosing his own direction.

Harry looked up at Midoriya, meeting determined green eyes with his own. “Let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've all enjoyed this journey!!! And I hope the magic stuff wasn't too complicated, I've thought about simplifying it, but... well, I like complicated things, so there you go. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the final chapter!!!! <3 And thank you all again for the comments and kudos <3 <3 I've appreciated them so much, and they really have helped me stay motivated to write this piece until the end.
> 
> Yes, there are ways a sequel could happen, but I won't be writing it. I've enjoyed this project, but my inspiration to write the story has come to an end. If someone else wants to write the tale of Midoriya learning magic, Harry getting to know Eri, fluff with Harry and the bksquad, or make things more complicated by giving All Might magic, too, (or anything else) go for it, though I would ask that you let me know first so that I can properly squeal in excitement :D 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at haruhi1020 and if you want to talk about my work, writing, art, or anime in general, we always love to have new people join us on my discord server! We recommend fics to each other, have writing and art challenges, and play games :D You can be active as much or as little as you want. I try to keep ppl informed about upcoming works I’ll be posting and there’s also some fan art there of some of my works https://discord.gg/BDZGCBa


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